Living Dreams and Nightmares Part 1 of the Dreams & Nightmares Series
by GoldenPetal13
Summary: AU – Set months after the end of Season 2 Stiles' life had spiralled out of control to the point where it was easier on everyone around him if he just left, he tried to find a place that was werewolf free, except it turns out there are more werewolves in the world than you'd think, and he's still the damn Omega. See inside for full warnings.
1. Chapter 1

AU – Set months after the end of Season 2 Stiles' life had spiralled out of control to the point where it was easier on everyone around him if he just left, he tried to find a place that was werewolf free, except it turns out there are more werewolves in the world than you'd think, and he's still the damn Omega. But it's hard to out run your past, especially when it comes hunting you. Begins end of October of Stiles' Junior year.

Rules changes of this AU. Sixteen is both the age of consent and the age kid's are legally considered adults though most stay in high school until eighteen before going to college.

Rated M

Warnings: Non con (throughout), domestic violence, abusive relationships, excess angst, thin plot (squint and it might be there), non con smut, generally being evil to Stiles. Oh and both Peter and Stiles will go OOC as they attempt to get along with each other (plus the traumas Stiles has gone through have changed him)

Don't like don't read, though constructive criticism is always welcome (plus any reviews).

I own nothing, literally.

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**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**001**

"Stiles," Oren's voice calls out the moment I step over the threshold of the tiny apartment we share in Sacramento. Of course he's a werewolf so it means he could probably hear me walking up the stairs.

Nervously I go over the last few days in my head, I can't think of anything I've done to upset him. "Yes Oren?" I call out being as friendly as I can.

A blond head pops around the door to the bedroom and smiles at me. He's gorgeous, he really is, all chiselled cheekbones stunning violet eyes, floppy blond hair, so beautiful and he should so be a model. He's also a werewolf and prone to bouts of violence, bouts that leave my body peppered with bruises on far too many occasions. "Get changed, I'm taking you out to dinner, nowhere too fancy, but I got the promotion and they back dated my pay."

"Dude, that's awesome," I grin at him, he's been trying to get the promotion since I ran into him and he'd dragged me into his home against my will after he fought and killed Brad the werewolf that had me last. "They finally decided you were doing all the work then?"

"Yeah," he nods bashfully, "Turns out Roberts left all the paperwork in his desk drawer and didn't do anything with it, it'll mean I have to work late for a while," he shrugs, "But once the backlog is cleared it should be smooth sailing again."

"Cool," and I'm really happy. Because not only does he deserve that promotion, having busted his balls trying to get it, but a happy werewolf is a less free with his fists werewolf, and that means I'm less bruised too.

"So how was school," he calls out.

"Okay I guess. I aced my test, got more homework, and hung out in the library a lot." I hang out in the library way too much, I daren't make any friends, I'll only drag them down with me like I did Scott.

Pushing away the guilt of that thought I hop in the shower and obediently get dressed to go out. Strange how quickly I learnt to obey Brad when I was with him, it could have something to do with the belt he used repeatedly on me. I still haven't learnt to shut up though and Oren is more patient with me than Brad ever was.

Dinner is a nice upmarket restaurant. It's not somewhere I'd normal go, we even get a waiter and a wine menu. Oren doesn't drink and I need to keep my wits about me to stay on his good side.

My chicken is nice, Oren's steak is cooked to perfection, the overall rating is good. I already know from his actions that he expects sex from me tonight. Not a major hardship, he's been quick to accept and apply the stretch Stiles before penetration rule. He even accepts the fact that I don't get hard or orgasm when we have sex, he doesn't blame me for it, he doesn't punish me for it, so it's fine.

Brad used to punish me for my lack of orgasms, which unsurprisingly lead to me having problems with getting any orgasms. I shouldn't be glad he's dead but I am.

When Brad had originally found me I was running away from my old pack, I was sick of being the Omega, being pushed around, used, I didn't realise how good I had it there. I'd go back to Derek's pack in a heartbeat if I thought they'd take me.

Of course Brad was right when he first caught me. I was an Omega then, I'm still an Omega now and no one's going to want me, especially after I was used so thoroughly by Brad. I'm soiled goods, ruined and useless to any pack.

Oren's much nicer than Brad, far more understanding and willing to give me space. I'm not sure why he was kicked out of his pack to become a vagabond Omega but he says I help him remember to be human, I'm not a true anchor for him like Allison is to Scott but I'm much better than nothing.

He's laughing at a joke I make as we walk up the stairs to our door. We get in and then he's running his hand over my ass, I smile at him and nod. I don't really have a choice, but this illusion of consent is better than nothing, better than being slammed into a wall by Brad and having my pants pulled off me by force.

Locking up, we hurry to the bedroom. Undressing I go on all fours in the middle of our bed. The drawer rattles and I hear the lube pop. Cold and slippery fingers run over the crease of my ass and I close my eyes.

Zoning out I ignore the finger broaching me, I don't fight the intrusion that only brings me pain, instead I remember better times.

I'm running in the woods with Scott, we're fourteen, he's wheezing and laughing and the only things we have to be afraid of are getting home late because his mom will yell and my dad will yell. I'm happy there. We find a clearing and spin in circles until we're so dizzy we can't stand up anymore and fall to the ground the world tilting crazily around us.

That memory keeps me occupied as Oren adds a second finger, the third finger burns a little and I turn to another memory.

I'm sitting in my dad's police cruiser with food between us. We're just talking. I don't even remember what we talked about, probably his diet, school, me not breaking things, his work, sometimes I think of things that help him break cases, sometimes his scanner goes off and we race to a crime scene. I always keep my memories of those times with dad set long before the werewolf madness swept the town, less dead bodies that way.

"Hmm, is that enough?" Oren asks breaking the spell.

Moving his fingers inside of me he lets me gauge it and I nod, "Yeah Oren, that's enough."

"Yes," his voice is happy and then the lube is going again.

Refocusing I pull together my favourite fantasy and wait as patiently as I can for Oren to push his cock into my ass. He thrusts a few times to be sure I'm okay and then he's off chasing his climax and I chase my stupid teenage dreams.

In my head I have a montage of images and motion pictures. I lose myself in them and the creak of the bed fades away to be replaced by dark hair and green eyes that flash either electric blue or alpha red. He snarls at me, he pushes me into walls and doors, he keeps me safe, he holds me. He takes my virginity when I offer it to him, though I had to stalk him for a few weeks into giving in to me.

I daydream about telling him the truth, how I'm in love with him, me a stupid little human Omega in love with an Alpha. God how much of an idiot was I? In my daydreams he tells me loves me too, he tells me how strong I am, how he needs me in his life, in his pack, how he's not good with words…

… Our bodies do the talking for us, I'm so glad he was my first. He leaves me gifts, I bake him cookies. He gives me intense stares, I babble at him. He holds me and I hold him back…

And in reality Oren is nearly finished so I tighten my ass and then he's coming with a partial howl. I used to love this part, the part where my ass got filled up with Derek's cum. Now it's simply endured. In the morning I'll shower and I'll try not feel anything when it's washed down the drain.

My teenage dreams have turned into a living waking nightmare.

Oren collapses to the bed beside me and I fall forwards, twisting to get under the covers, I lay there and let myself slip into dreams of an earlier happier life, it's the only escape I have from my normal day to day existence.

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A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.

Yes I will be explaining what happened, but later on, and yes the chapters will all be short. If you want the whole thing go to my AO3 account, same name. If not one update a day.


	2. Chapter 2

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**002**

The alarm beeping wakes me up and I slither out of bed to use the shower. Washing myself clean I ignore the gunk that comes out of my ass and has dried around that area in the night.

I have to fall back on happier memories of lying in Derek's bed to get me through the cleaning of that particular area. I remember how Derek would help me wash, considering the guy was using me for sex and was very vigorous in the physical stuff, he never stinted on the aftercare.

My dream Derek is here now and his hands are big, rough, and don't leave bruises on my body, the only ones he ever left me were on my hips right at the end when we'd both climax.

Stepping out of the shower I can see my naked body out of the corner of my eye. There are large bruises everywhere. Oren at least has a better handle on his temper than Brad, but he still lashes out and I trace the big bruise on my side, it's a lovely shade of black and blue with tinges of green. Hiding my sigh I dry myself off and shave, I have to be careful of my lip area as one side is slightly swollen from a stray fist, it hadn't bled too much so my t-shirt at the time wasn't ruined.

Once I'm dressed I make breakfast and I enjoy this part. I used to attempt cooking for dad, and then when I totally fucked up so dad and me argued until I wasn't his son anymore, I ended up cooking for Derek and the Betas, that makes me smile every single time. Derek and the Betas would make an awesome band name.

Dishing up Oren's breakfast just as he walks out of the bedroom is a skill I learnt from Brad. Get the timing right and walk away, get it wrong and bleed.

Washing up afterwards I wish Oren luck at work, swallow some Adderall, then I'm running for the school bus. It's weird how I can be sixteen and an adult in the eyes of the law but still have to go to school while attempting to keep a roof over my head, feed myself and not fail at my grades. I still can't legally drink or vote but I can get married, have sex and rent my own apartment. Totally fucked up system.

The Government at least have worked out that school kids who get kicked out at sixteen can't work full time and if we go to school we get this minimum pay thing paid to us, turn up at school and get paid as if you were at work. It helps and means I can contribute towards the bills, though I'm saving like crazy for college, I know it's not enough money but if I can just get into a college, maybe with a partial scholarship, I can get away from Oren in a way that he can't hunt me down and slaughter me for.

As soon as I'm off the bus the damn guidance councillor is waiting for me and tries to guilt trip me into reading a bunch of pamphlets about domestic abuse and ways for the victim to escape it. They're more practical than I thought they'd be, none of this stand up for yourself crap, it's more long term planning, gathering evidence so you can get a restraining order, how you can find accommodation, a job, schooling for any kids.

Not once does it blame the victim for getting into that situation in the first place, and it doesn't make light of what the victim goes through. What it doesn't cover is how to get out of a domestic abuse relationship if the abuser is a werewolf who can track you across town and rip your throat out.

"Stiles," she gives me a sympathetic smile, "Please, please, really look at these, and feel free to leave them in my office so Oren can't see them," you come to school looking like a mugging gone wrong often enough and people do start to take notice.

"Thanks," I wave them at her, "I will."

And then I stiffen as the hairs on the back of my neck go up and I start looking around frantically for Oren, because that's what it's like to be caught in a werewolf's gaze when they're hunting you.

"I have to go," I babble at her and run for the school. My bruises pull and my ass protests but at least I'll be alive.

In the school I get strange looks and the other kids whisper at me. When I first ran away from Beacon Hills I'd started at this high school's summer school program and gotten my credits transferred, I'd had to do a few shifts a week at the local Wal Mart but the discount I got helped stretch my money out. Then Brad had turned up and I turned into the walking wounded, the number of times the cops got called or I ended up taking a trip to the ER because of him was not funny, at that point the whispers started up.

Oren saved me from Brad but took me for his own and the Coach and kids all stare at me in the locker room when we do gym class. The only good thing about it is I can fake not feeling well and can go sit in the nurse's office if things in my head get too bad.

Mostly I get by in this nightmare my life has become by daydreaming about my better life before I destroyed it. Walking down the halls I imagine Scott and Allison are next to me and a smile tugs on my face, I miss them but dream Scott and dream Allison are laughing at a joke and they're happy, which only reminds me that the real Scott and Allison are happier without me wrecking their lives.

Dream Scott and dream Allison are awesome so I can totally hang out with them and I sit at my desk listening to them coo like lovesick lovebirds. I used to feel so left out when they did that, I never appreciated how they put up with me and let me stick around them at school, I was upset at Scott for turning all his attention on her, god I was so stupid.

School is boring and I have to fight my ADHD to concentrate, then I hole up in the library after I've eaten at lunch. Curled up on a comfy sofa I read mythology and wonder how much of it's real and how much of it's a story.

My last lesson is gym class and god I hate this one. We have to go out and its freezing out there, it's running though and I'm good at running, I've had plenty of practice. The Coach wants me on the track team but I always say no and he doesn't push.

There's a course laid out for us to follow and it's easy, no one's tying to eat me so I can enjoy stretching my legs and not face planting in the mud. Going through the part in the small copse of trees by the edge of the field I sense I'm being watched again.

I'm way ahead of the other kids and I slow down to a stand still. Not even breathing hard I search the undergrowth looking for the tell tale sign of glowing eyes. Nothing. But I know there's someone or something there.

"Oren?" I call out wondering if it's him, in which case he's being a serious dick to me. A bush barely moves but I know who, or what, is in, or behind that bush, "Oren?" I step closer and curse my curiosity, "Dude? Seriously you're weirding me out here. Did you need to me to stop and grab something for you on the way home? And shouldn't you be at work? You only just got the promotion…"

Silence and I'm fairly sure that it's not Oren. Nervously I back up a step and a low growl that seems so damn familiar for some reason starts up. It's stupid to run but I do anyway, but then that's me, if it's stupid then I'll do it.

Pounding out the other side of the trees I run around the last of the course and this time I don't hold back, I want distance between me and that, whatever it is. Somehow I know it's here for me, and only me, but I still count all the kids back in, no one is missing, it was probably just a dog and even I don't believe the lie I just told myself.

Scurrying home I make it safely into the apartment and cook dinner, I eat it alone and do my homework eyeing up the full trash bin and debating taking it down now or later. Oren had said he'd be late but this is ridiculous, and when he staggers in the door his eyes are glowing amber and I reheat his dinner for him and rub his shoulders.

"Stupid fucking promotion," he growls and eats. "Why the fuck did I want it?"

"Today didn't go so great then," I find some knots in his back and tease them out, if I can calm him down in time I'll be all right.

Of course when I'm nervous I babble, "Tomorrow should be better though, and you said when you caught up with the work things would settle down, I know you Oren, I know you'll get the mistakes Roberts made fixed," it seems to be calming him down.

Under my hands his shoulders flex and he twists around his eyes and face wolfing out on me, and I know what's coming next. He pulls all his blows so he doesn't kill me and he's so fast I don't see most of them coming, lastly the wall hits my back as he throws me into it. Crashing onto the floor I curl up and wait.

"I'm going out," he grunts and the door slams.

Counting slowly to one hundred I stay where I am and only then do I move. Wincing at the new bruises flaring to life on my body I crawl to the freezer and put a couple of ice packs on my face. Red drops land on my hand, "Fuck," I curse and check the damage in the reflection of the microwave's glass. It's not that bad, he hasn't broken my nose or split my lip too much.

The dizziness retreats and I attempt to stand up. There's the odd moment where I think I'm going to faint but I push through it. Cleaning up I throw most of his dinner out and then I stare at the trash can and go back to debating leaving it for the morning, except if Oren comes home tonight and the place stinks of refuse he'll lose his temper again.

Snagging the trash I take my time going down the stairs and into the dark alleyway. Damn, it normally doesn't scare me but I can't shake the feeling of being watched. If it's Oren he'll leave me alone, if it's another stray Omega I smell enough like Oren that it should leave me alone.

Wrapping myself in a memory of Derek I walk into the dark and over to the bins. My shoulder's killing me but I lift the lid and get the trash up there. Dream Derek is leaning on the metal near me and is giving me a patented scowl, this one is telling how dumb I am to do this now instead of waiting.

I make it out of the alleyway in one piece and up the stairs to my door, only then does a low growl echo up from the bottom of the stairs, the stairs that did have a light on when I passed them just now, the stairs that are now in darkness.

Bolting into the apartment I close and lock the door, another dumb move, werewolves can burst straight though it, or any of the windows. Hurriedly I pull the blinds down. Sometimes ignorance can be bliss, and I'm happy to pretend there's not a problem, to lie to myself and tell myself it was a stray dog, except dogs can't take light bulbs out.

A few painkillers later and I sprawl on the bed wondering when Oren will be back and if he'll be successful at tracking down this new Omega. Tossing and turning I strain to hear every little sound, but if a werewolf doesn't want me to hear them I won't.

Rolling onto my side I sigh and dream Isaac wraps a brotherly arm around me, when Derek wasn't there at night I would sleep with Isaac, he never did anything to me, just held me. Isaac was one of the few I thought might occasionally like me hanging around.

Isaac's breathing is steady and even, it lulls me to sleep, this is one of my most peaceful daydreams, I cherish this one so much.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	3. Chapter 3

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**003**

The alarm beeping wakes me up and Oren leans over me to turn it off, I blink sleepily at him and he grimaces, "Fuck, Stiles, I'm so sorry about last night, I know the full moon isn't for another three days, I should have better control than that."

He's always sorry.

He doesn't change his behaviour though, and I smile and nod at him acting like I've accepted his apology, I haven't, because he doesn't really mean it. The trick to lying to werewolves is to dodge and tell a different truth. I've been reading up on fairies and the wee folk, if they're real then they're the fathers of lawyers, the slippery little buggers would tell the truth but in such a way that it wasn't the whole truth or the truth to your questions. Never make a deal with a fairy, because all you get are fairy bumpkus and a serious case of being screwed over.

"Go shower, I'll make breakfast," I tell him and he smiles that gorgeous smile.

Moving stiffly I make him his breakfast and use the shower after him, I don't bother eating but I do take my Adderall and grab my school things as I go to the school bus.

At the bottom of the stairs is the maintenance guy who's muttering about kids and pranks and he's screwing in a new light bulb. The sensation of being watched is strong as I stand at the bus stop, it continues all the way to school as the kids all stare at me and I blank it out with dream Scott who morphs into dream Erika, "Seriously, I get that being broody is all Batman like, but come on Stiles, plan better," she leans back showing off her chest again, "We both know you can do better," and then she's gone.

Awesome.

Just what I didn't need, an Erika pep talk, my subconscious hates me.

Milling kids at school are an obstacle I try and wind my way through, a few of them step into me and I wince in pain as they hit my new bruises. I'm barely through the door when a teacher catches sight of me and I'm sent to the nurse's office.

The nurse means well and she checks out all my new injuries tutting the whole time, "You know I have to report these don't you," she says that every time.

"I know," I accept it and if Oren was human I'd have quite the case building up against him, a case I could use to get him out of my life, but he's not human and if I used it against him I'd either vanish and be dead or turn up a mangled dead corpse, basically dead though, the exact location of my body is the only variable.

"Fine, I'm going to the Principal's to get this all documented and sent off. You," she wags a finger at me, "Will stay here and rest, I'll get you excused from your first few lessons."

"'Kay," I didn't think my injuries were that bad but I lay back and close my eyes. She pulls the curtain across screening me from the door and then I hear her footsteps click further and further away.

Wiggling to get comfy I don't think I'm going to sleep but my brain is cooperating for once and I start to doze off.

A lack of noise wakes me up and I jerk my head up to stare at the curtains near the base of the bed. That watching hunted sensation is back and I stare at the human shaped shadow that's looming closer and closer on the other side of the curtain.

I blink as my eyes burn and it breaks the panic I've been stuck in, frantically I look around the room but other than the bed there's nothing here, nothing I can use as a weapon, no handy powdered wolfsbane.

The silhouette of a hand reaches out to the edge of the curtain and I can hear myself start to pant as I draw my feet up getting ready to duck and run. If I can make it out into the corridor screaming my head off I might be able to survive this.

And then the person on the other side turns their head so I can see the profile, they tilt their head as if listening and then they're gone. The noise of the nurse's shoes click on the floor coming nearer and I struggle to get my breathing under control.

She putters around the office and I doze off a little as I wonder why the profile looked so damn familiar, what was it about whoever it was that terrified me that much?

Shaking it off I make it through the day and ride the bus home, that same watched sensation picking up at my bus stop and following me to the apartment.

Oren's already waiting for me when he should be at work, "Hey," he slinks over to me, "Look, I really am sorry, so how about we go shopping, and afterwards we'll grab some drive through?"

We're getting low on food and I have no desire to go out there on my own so I put my books away and let him lead me down the stairs and to his car. The whole time the spot between my shoulder blades itches and he's not twitching in the slightest. That's weird. Oren's really good at spotting rogue Omegas, so either the werewolf is better than Oren, not a good thought, or I'm even more paranoid than I realised, also not a good thought.

Wandering around the supermarket and mentally checking things off of my list I daydream about Scott's mom. She helpfully points out some handy bargains and I remember tips she gave me as I pushed the cart for her when I was much younger. Even then I had the attention span of a gnat and she turned it into a game to keep me interested, poor Scott never understood it, but we both enjoyed the piece of candy at the end.

For once Oren volunteers to get the car and takes a few bags with him. I watch him jog away up into the multistory and sulk about werewolf healing abilities and stamina. Standing outside the supermarket I stay close to the entrance and the lights not trusting the darkness in the slightest.

Planning our meals for the rest of the week I shift from foot to foot and then glare up at the parking lot. Damn it he is taking his time. Glancing up at the big clock outside the supermarket, I give him another ten minutes in case he's wolfing down something sugary, he does have a sweet tooth, and then it's been over twelve minutes and I know something's wrong.

Briefly I toy with the idea of going back inside and sending someone else up there to go and find him but I can't risk other people getting hurt, I really wouldn't be able to live with myself if I deliberately sent someone into harms way.

Clutching my bags to my chest I start the lonely, rather creepy, walk into the place and we're parked on the third floor. Around and around I go and I'm as silent as I can be. I check to see the security cameras are working and they are so I breathe a bit easier at that.

Peeking around the third floor ramp I try and see if Oren is anywhere to be seen. He's not. Edging up the ramp I know his car is parked right at the far end on the left.

Moving to the top of the ramp I can feel those eyes on me again and I glance up to see the camera is trained on me right now, it's the same as being in a crowded place, no werewolf would dare attack me where there are cameras because that would bring the hunters down on their furry little asses.

Oh my god I now live in a world where I'm glad there are hunters.

Taking a few steps forward I stop and try and work out if it's hunters I've been sensing following me and then shake my head, no, there's something else to the feeling and the fact I'm not healing would make them pause. Okay so they'd only pause if they actually followed the code, but the same rule of the camera applies and I inch forward.

There's a strange click whirling coming from the camera and I frown as I try and see to the end of the parking bays. I stop again and I track the lights with my eyes, there should be three lights at the bottom and they're not there.

The image of the camera flashes in my mind and the click whirl is where someone has jammed the camera so it can't turn. I'm betting the same has been done to the camera at that far end, that or someone's destroyed it completely.

That burning itch between my shoulder blades is at a fever pitch and I have to clear my throat before I say, "You're standing right behind me, aren't you."

A soft chuckle from right behind me is my only answer and I know that chuckle from somewhere, it makes the bags fall from my nerveless fingers and my groceries crash to the ground.

Spinning in a circle I can see he's standing only foot away from me and he's smiling at me, "Hello Stiles," he greets me politely.

"Peter," I'm surprised my voice is so steady and I stare into his blue eyes wondering how long he'll take to kill me and praying I don't scream like a girl while he does it.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	4. Chapter 4

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**004**

Oh my god. I'm standing in front of Peter fucking Hale. Alpha crazy psycho nutjob. And I may have helped kill him once and helped to try to kill him another time.

He's the kind of nutjob that can carry a grudge all the way out of the grave and back into life. Frozen I stare at him and he's why I recognised the growling, it was him. He's why I recognised the profile, it was him. And my Erika moment makes sense, my subconscious was telling me to think and work it out not hand myself to him on a plate in a deserted parking garage.

His eyes are blue, not red, he looks calm, he's not wolfing out and trying to rip my throat out and I can't stay quiet for long anyway, "You look well," I tell him and he does, he always does. Even when he's covered in blood, gore and dirt he tends to look good, and here he's clean and well dressed.

"Thank you," he smiles that urbane smile that hides the psycho-ness really well. "You don't."

Well that was just rude and I glare at him, the best I can do is get a few verbal jabs in before he kills me so I cross my arms and snipe, "I pay you a compliment and you kick me while I'm down, not cool," it earns me a quirked eyebrow, another werewolf trait that comes with the bite, "I'm aware that I'm not that great to look at, but you could have just lied, it's not like I have freaky werewolf super senses to tell me when you do that."

A head tilt and a quizzical look from him and I'm back to carrying the conversation, "Seriously if you came all this way to tell me I'm unattractive, too scrawny, too unpretty then please just kill me now and I can become another teen statistic that wasn't good enough for the world."

I think I've confused him and he asks, "Excuse me?"

"What?" Is my witty comeback and if he gives me a few more minutes I'll have a better one, probably as I run back down towards the entrance and possible escape.

"I'm confused, you said that I called you unattractive while I was simply replying that you do not look well, you're clearly injured and tired. That is not the definition of well," he says studying me.

"Um…" Well now I'm confused. "Oh? So, just not being in good health then? Okay I can live with that." I'm not touching the unattractive thing right now.

"Good," and he's back to smiling at me, it's kinda creepy on his face, especially as I know what he can turn into and he's chased me around at night in Beacon Hills high school wanting to get Scott to chow down on me.

I let the silence stretch out for about twenty seconds and then I crack, "So… It was nice seeing you again," I know that one's a lie and he will too, "Let's not do this again and I'll not see you around. Bye Peter."

"Actually Stiles how about you don't try and walk away from me and I won't do something you'll regret," and that's one of the most annoying things he does, his voice is normal when he does the big scary threats. At least Derek's voice gets all growly and gravely and hot. Peter's so calm its uber creepy and I'm using the word creepy far too much right now.

"What do you want Peter? It's a school night and you already know where I go to school because you stalked me there like the creeper wolf you are. And I've not eaten yet tonight and I really want to go to sleep, so please enlighten me on why you've set this up," I wave my arms at the whole parking lot thing and hope my death is fairly quick.

"Stiles," Peter's smile is fond and I'm way past creeped out at this point. There's no rescue coming for me this time, I'm all alone.

Other dots in my head connect and I swallow dryly, "Oren's dead isn't he," it's not a question and the man in front of me gives me a pained look and nods, "Oh god, I'm next, aren't I," again it's not a question.

"No," he seems genuinely shocked. "Why would I kill you?"

The only other thing I can think of is, "I still don't want the bite from you, it's way more trouble than it's worth."

"Okay," and he's agreeing with me.

I'm officially out of my depth now, I have no idea what he could possibly want from me, I'm not a werewolf, I don't have access to everything I used to, I can't even research that much as I have a job I need to go to in order to get the cash for college.

Life has slowly taught me some self-preservation skills and I don't know how to phrase my question about what he wants in such a way he doesn't simply rip my throat out. See I can occasionally kept quiet, but I know it won't last long enough, I'm going to say something stupid soon.

Sniffing the air he gives me another fond smile, "Oh Stiles, you smell so confused, just go ahead and ask me..."

Well that's definitely an invitation, "What do you want from me?" And I hold my breath waiting for the explosion.

"Everything," doesn't really answer my question and he doesn't elaborate.

"Um…" Another witty comeback from me, but then Peter has always put me off of my stride.

"You will tell them," he starts saying, "That Oren was taking too long, you came to find him, you noticed the lights were out, because I'm sure you did notice them, and then something hit you over the head. You remember nothing else as you'd been knocked out."

"Knocked out?" I really don't like where this is going. "Why do I have to be knocked out?"

"It will work better that way when you're questioned in the hospital," he's so calm as he's telling me this screwed up plan of his. "Wait a few days, rest there in the hospital, and I'll come for you as a concerned friend who happened to see the terrible story in the local newspaper as I was passing through the area on business. We know each other from Beacon Hills and I'm visiting you, I'll tell you the rest after that."

I hate this plan and I'm mentally roughing out my route to run for it, I might make it to the camera in time and then he'll be seen for the monster he is.

Eyeing up the distance I barely see him move and then the world is going black and I'm stuck with his stupid insane plan that I don't even know the reason for.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	5. Chapter 5

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**005**

Noise.

Light.

Pain in my head.

Pain in my body.

I screw my eyes shut and hope it all goes away.

The smell of a hospital invades my nose and the noise echoes in my ears, unable to ignore it I crack my eyes open and glance about, I think I'm in the ER department.

Everything is fuzzy and in twos and threes, that can't be good and even my brain is unable to function enough that my ADHD isn't online, at least I don't think it is. The pounding in my skull must be drowning it out.

Damn, why am I in the hospital?

Is it something to do with Scott? Is he okay? What about my dad?

Trying to sit up I groan as the world tilts and I fall back landing on bruises I didn't know I had.

"Mr Stilinski?" Someone's saying and I blink stupidly at a man in hospital scrubs. "How many fingers?" I mumble six, which upsets him, and there are lights in my eyes and hands on my head.

"He's awake," a very unfriendly male voice is saying and the man in scrubs is pushed away. What could be a badge is waved in front of my face. "Mr Stilinski, we need to ask you some questions about what happened last night."

"Last night?" My words are slurred and in the background the man in scrubs is now arguing with what I'm assuming is this cop's partner.

"The parking garage," the unfriendly cop says looming over me menacingly. I've been loomed at so much I'm not that impressed but it does jog my memory.

"Oren!" I try to sit up again, but slower, "Where's Oren? He went to get the car, he was taking too long, he must have been hurt, oh my god, which bed is he in?" I manage to get all the way up and painfully swing my legs over the bed. The cop is being a total dick and stands blankly as I struggle. "Oren!" I call out, the guy is a werewolf he'll hear me, I just have to get close enough to hear him.

"Whoa," the scrubs guy is back, "No, no going anywhere," he wrestles me back onto the bed.

"You don't understand," I'm too injured to fight properly, "I have to see him, I have to, he must have been hurt too, let me up." I push on the guy's shoulders, "Please, you have to let me up," I have to get to Oren and cover for him, to come up with a plan for why he's healing so quickly. "Please," I'm reduced to pleading.

"No," the guy's adamant. "You have to rest, you're not bleeding internally but you were hurt, and you need to stay here and let us do our jobs," there's something in the way the guy isn't looking at me that jogs my memory.

"What aren't you telling me about Oren?" I'm a sheriff's kid, I might be concussed but I'm not stupid. "What is it? Where is he?" I'm starting to panic, what if they've already noticed and have already started dissecting him alive? What if they trace the werewolf thing to Beacon Hills? Everyone would be in danger and I trash under this guy stopping me from protecting them, "No, let me go, let me go. Oren! Oren!"

There are more people in scrubs and there's a battle to keep me on the bed as I scream for Oren, they insert a line to a hanging bag of IV stuff and then they're injecting something into it and I know it's going to be bad, I try and get the line out, it's too late and the world is slowing down, it's harder to move.

My head lolls to the side where twin red lights blink at me and I should be scared of them as I'm sucked down into the dark, because there's something scary out there, something big and bad and it's hunting me.

There's no escaping the dark and it pulls me under.

Bobbing back up I open my eyes to stare at a ceiling. I still hurt. My head is still pounding but everything is muted now, pushed further away. I lay there and everything is sluggish, my thoughts move as fast as molasses in my brain, I must be on some pretty trippy drugs right now and it makes me smile, why am I never in a position to enjoy the good things like being as high as a kite?

"Mr Stilinski," another person in scrubs is there, "Hi, I'm Doctor Prior, I have a few things to do to you."

"'Kay," I murmur and the man smiles at me.

There are no double or triple images and he seems satisfied with my eyes, to the point that he tones down the pain medication. I'm left on my own with just a nurse coming to check on me every twenty minutes and my mind starts to clear.

Oh crap.

I'm fuzzy on the details but something has happened to Oren. And that's when dream dad comes to visit me. He sits on my bed and it makes my heart hurt to see him, I think that's why I don't see him very often.

"Stiles," his voice is very gentle, "You have to be very careful now, you have to watch what you say and how you say it. I'm here for you kiddo. Let me help you."

The nurse is back before I can answer him or question him and there's a woman too. The woman isn't in scrubs and dream dad is glaring at her, she must be who I have to be careful of, except there's something else, something nagging at me, something so very dangerous I have to escape it.

"Mr Stilinski," the woman's voice is calm, "My name is Detective Bains. I have some questions for you. Are you up to answering them yet? Your doctor said you're nicely on the road to recovery."

Behind her dream dad nods so I say, "Okay, yes."

Dragging a chair over she waits for the nurse to finish with my vitals and then a man and a woman walk into my room, they're arguing but stop when the Detective glares at them. "Mr Stilinski," Bains says as calm as before, "This is my partner Granger," the man gives a little wave and a reassuring smile, "And this is the Social Worker assigned to you as you're not yet eighteen, strange how you can do so much and be counted an adult but you have to have her present while we ask you questions."

"Yes Stiles," the other woman's voice is hard, "Whenever an officer of the law wants to ask you these kind of questions, someone like me should be present at all times," she's angry at the Detectives.

Dream dad is pleased this woman is here and I relax against the pillows and wait, ignoring that persistent itch between my shoulder blades warning me of something.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	6. Chapter 6

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**006**

Bains gets out a mini recording device and sets it up on my bed's table, starting it rolling she says names and places, time and date, and my brain latches onto that because I've just lost three days.

"Okay Mr Stilinski, I'd like to make it very clear that we've done a very thorough background search on you and you are not in any way a suspect. You are, however, a possible witness and we need you to answer some questions for us," her voice is clear and calm.

Dream dad nods so I say, "Yes, I'll help you and answer your questions, but I have to know where Oren is first, please, I vaguely remember waking up and something happening."

My heart monitor is picking up my increased heart rate and Bains grimaces slightly, "Mr Stilinski, I'm from the homicide department," the monitor flat lines for a few seconds and then thunders as I reel and try to process the news.

"Oren," I whimper and I know he's gone, it has to be something very powerful or determined to kill a werewolf and I roll onto my side to curl up a little. "Oh god, Oren…" There's too much death in my life, I just want a break from it all, just a little bit of peace, is it too much to ask?

The Social Worker comes over, "Stiles, if you need to stop," she's glaring at Bains, "They have to leave, okay, you can tell them to leave whenever you need to."

"I'm okay," I pull myself together and flick my eyes up to Bains understanding why dream dad's here; I have to convince them I'm a grieving boyfriend and behind Bains he nods to let me know I'm right. "What do you want to know?" I ask Bains and try to pretend I'm helping them because I want justice for Oren.

It's fairly routine, they walk me through the events of the night, they seem to know everything already and then it reaches the point I'm at the third level of the parking garage and I pause, "Something was wrong," I tell them, "It felt wrong. The lights at the end were out, the camera's been tampered with, and then there was someone behind me," someone I need to remember, someone frightening, "I don't remember, why don't I remember?"

"Head traumas can do that, especially with the beating you took," the man says joining in and flicks through some notes in his hand. "Is there anything leading up to that night that sticks out as being different?"

"No…" I pause again, "Wait, the light at the base of the apartment stairs, the light was on when I put the trash out, I came back and it was on, and at the top of the stairs I looked back and it was out. The maintenance man had to fix it the next day, he said it was some kids pulling a prank."

The Detectives share a look and Bains asks, "And where was Oren at the time?"

"Out," I say turning the puzzle over in my head, there are still a few missing pieces, "He was upset, he said he had to go out and clear his head."

"And you turned up the next day at school with more bruises," the man says and I glare at him, "Mr Stilinski we're aware that Oren was a domestically violent partner, please don't try and hide it," his voice is gentle and he's being sympathetic.

I know exactly how a victim should sound and I let my voice crack in places as I say, "He'd just gotten a promotion at work, things were going to get better, he said he was sorry he hit me, he had a temper, he couldn't help it."

And he couldn't, being a werewolf tended to make you crabby and grumpy, especially at that time of the month, with Oren being a pack-less Omega he'd have no one else to help him.

They don't believe that, but they do believe that I believe it, which I don't. Oren was abusive, but he could also rip my throat out, and he was far better than Brad had ever been.

Bains gives me a fake smile, "Well, we have the six suspects in custody already, we just needed to see if you could place them at the crime scene, they've clearly made sure you can't. There's plenty of physical evidence to place them there and they have motive."

Grabbing the recording device she stops it after giving the necessary spiel, "Thank you for your cooperation Mr Stilinski and I'm sorry for your loss."

They leave me alone with the Social Worker who sighs and comes to sit in Bains' chair, "Well Stiles, you do have a habit of picking the wrong man, first Brad and now Oren," her smile is tired but genuine. "You were very lucky you didn't walk up to the car with Oren that night, he used to be part of a gang and they didn't take kindly to him leaving them, they have happily and drunkenly confessed to his murder, they also have a grudge going with another local gang so they're in solitary to keep them safe."

"Oren was in a gang?" I wrap my head around that fact and that he worked in an office and did nine to five as she nods.

We talk for a bit longer, apparently all my stuff has been thrown out by my landlord, the school is waving the fees of lost books and this woman is going to get me a place in a homeless shelter for kids, "It's only for a few days," she warns me, "But we'll help you find a new apartment you can afford to rent, the school is fine with you being out, they say you're an excellent student, almost straight A's the whole way."

And I'm back to square one.

At least I'll be on my own without a werewolf expecting sex from me, I'm safe that way but something is still niggling at the back of my head and I keep thinking I need to run.

She pats my hand when she leaves and I'm stuck with the aftermath of Oren being murdered. Without him to protect me from other werewolves I could be killed or taken by another rogue Omega passing through. Perhaps this time I'll be able to get rid of the scent of werewolf before the next one appears and I can fly under the radar.

It's possible.

Staying curled up under the covers I talk to the nurse each time she comes in and later on they unhook me from the monitors, I'm awake, conscious and not likely to slip back under.

They're going to discharge me tomorrow. My Social Worker is already arraigning for clothes and a ride to the kid's home shelter outreach program thing. I get another dose of painkillers and doze, this medication is seriously trippy and I like the change from my Adderall, nothing is in focus and my brain is fuzzy and full of fluff.

I'm allowed to shower and I get to catalogue all the cool new bruises I've acquired. It's not as bad as the first time with Brad, or the week he spent training me not to run as the bastard tracked me clear across town the ten times I tried to run. I did everything I could think of to hide my scent from him and he still found me.

Four times I wash with the horrible hospital soap and my skin itches like it's unclean, but I know it's as clean as I can get it. Drying off I have to pat dry most of me, there are some grazes and a few cuts, but mostly bruises which are going to hurt like hell when the pain meds wear off.

Another backless gown, for modesty, and I sneak to my bed putting my bare ass on the sheets that have been changed, nice. Using the remote I cycle through the few channels available and try really hard not to think about anything. I'll worry about the problem of where to stay and what I'm going to do when I'm at the shelter, for now I need some me time to heal and get over this.

Dream Derek pops into view, "Stiles, run, Stiles, come on run," he's staring at the door and looks upset.

A soft knock from the doorway and I absently call out, "It's open," my dream Derek swings his head to me and looks like he's in pain. I miss the real him so much.

"Hello Stiles," a voice says and I whip my head around, wincing at the pain that causes to see Peter Hale standing there with a few magazines in his hands, "I'm not sure if you remember me…"

"Peter," I breathe out and then I see the nurse hovering behind him, she smiles and leaves us.

Oh my god.

Peter.

That's what I forgot.

It was him. I swallow loudly and he moves closer and closer to me as my heart speeds up pounding in my chest as id it could burst out at any second. He snags a chair and sets it next to me. He sits down and smiles at me, "Relax Stiles, I'm not here to hurt you."

That doesn't really reassure me and I know I'm looking at him like a rabbit caught by a hungry wolf.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	7. Chapter 7

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**007**

"I brought you some magazines," Peter says and holds them out, "I know you have ADHD, being stuck in here will drive you crazy, you need something to stimulate your brain."

Hesitantly I take them from him and glance at the one on top, it's the latest National Geographic, my hand hasn't griped them properly and they fan out, I can see a Batman comic, a newspaper, behind them all is a console gaming magazine.

"Um…" I'm really not sure what the hell is going on. I remember it all now. First he stalks me, then he kills Oren and knocks me unconscious, then he brings me things to read. Keeping my voice down I ask, "Why did you kill Oren?"

A grimace crosses his face, "I didn't. I was going to beat him unconscious and take you as my valued prize, but those human idiots gutted him before I could. I had to improvise to protect you from the human law enforcement, they tend to look at partners before anyone else."

"Oh," My numbed and medicated brain turns that over, "Valued prize?"

"Yes," He's sitting primly and properly on his chair, hands folded in his lap, "I intend to take you as mine," his blue eyes burn red for a few seconds, "I am fully recovered and at the height of my power as an Alpha, he was a mere pack-less Omega, he had no right to have you as his, he certainly didn't treat you properly," a low growl drifts from him, "Imagine hitting you because he had to work late, he should have been grateful you stayed with him."

Okay he's being weird and creepy again.

Not being a hundred percent certain that Peter understands why I stayed with Oren I venture, "You do get that I'm just human, I can't fight back that easily against a werewolf? And Brad, the werewolf before Oren, did kinda show me that running wasn't an option because he just followed my scent and then proved that staying was better than dying…"

I'm not expecting his hand to shoot out and grip my wrist, "And you did nothing to fight back?" He seems surprised and I try to move my arm away but his hand tightens very slightly forcing me to leave it there.

"Obviously I did, I know about wolfsbane, and so did Brad, he caught me on a few more well planned attempts to injure him or kill him off, in the end Oren fought him to the death after I weakened him and Oren got me in the bargain," Peter's eyes narrow and I babble a bit more, "Oren was way better than Brad, I didn't want to screw it up and anyway, I only had to stay until college and then I had the perfect excuse to leave."

"Hmm, well from now on you're part of my pack," he states and my stomach sinks, "There will only be you and I, and you will service all my needs," oh god no, not Peter, I can't have him touch me like that, something must show on my face, "Stiles, I assure you that I will treat you with the respect you deserve as my life long partner and my needs aren't that terrible."

Studying me he tilts his head, "Though I'm confused why you're out here alone and so easy to get to, I thought you were tucked up safe and sound with Derek, my silly nephew. Yet here you are ripe for the plucking, I didn't even have to fight him for you," his thumb rubs a circle on my arm and I fight off my need to shiver in fear.

"Fight him?" My voice is faint and I can't keep up with him, the medications are interfering and not because I keep freezing in terror and if I keep telling myself that it might become true.

"Of course. If I want someone as strong as you in my pack I have to prove that I can be the Alpha you need, I have to prove I'm better than him," he's so matter of fact.

Frowning I pick at his explanation, "But why would you want an Omega like me in your pack? I thought you wanted a Beta like Scott?"

"That ungratefully little puppy can hound Derek and make his life hell," Peter snarls the words and I can feel pinpricks of claws on my arm, they vanish just as quickly never breaking the skin, "I'm glad I never bit you in the woods," he's saying all calm again, "You are a gift Stiles, more special than you can imagine, so many people overlook you and don't see you for what you are, but I do, and I will have you one way or another," and there is the psycho in him peeking out. "Come with me willingly Stiles, stand by my side, with you there I will have no need to seek a pack, you will be all I'll ever need."

"I…" I really have no idea what to say or think, he scares the crap out of me, and he's creepy as hell, now what do I do to get away from him? I'm all alone with no pack to save me, and the Hunters are just as likely to use me as bait with little or no chance of me surviving their plan to kill Peter.

"You clearly underestimate yourself Stiles, you are at worst a Beta, and nearly an Alpha already, why do you think I'm so drawn to you? Your power calls to mine. You were able to help Scott with his newly turned abilities, something only one with the strength you exhibit could do," it's kind of flattering. "I've never been with a male before," and then he spoils it as my blood runs cold, "I admit you confused me so much to start with, I prefer women, but they pale in comparison to you, I must have you Stiles," his teeth are lengthening and his claws are extending.

"Um, hospital, you're in a hospital…" I try and reach him verbally; he blinks and shakes his head, the monster hidden away once more.

"See, already you're helping me," his smile is harmless again. "Perhaps you need some gentle persuasion," visions of him throwing me across the room fill my mind. "I've found a very nice little territory, it's called Wolf Creek," oh he is not living somewhere called Wolf Creek, that is just too symbolic and open to mocking, "It has a small high school, you can finish your schooling there in peace. It's only a few hours travel from New York, you could spend a lifetime exploring that city and it's many museums and distractions. I've set up a tiny business and can work from home with the minimum of fuss.

"When you graduate we can relocate for whatever college you want to go to, within reason. I can protect you from any werewolves that encroach on our territory and keep you safe. I will provide for you. I will care for you and love you as much as I'm able to," he's painting a very nice picture.

"What's the catch?" I ask warily acting like I have a choice in his creepy domestic fantasy.

"That you are loyal and faithful to me, that you stay with me for as long as I live," and that can't be all, I snort in disbelief and wait for the world domination plans to crop up, "I assure you Stiles, I seek only peace and quiet with my chosen lifelong partner." He reaches into a pocket with his free hand and brings out a ring box, and I have to be hallucinating or something as he flips it open one handedley, "I'm completely serious and committed to this relationship, I've even picked out our wedding rings already."

"I'm only sixteen," I whimper seeing the rings as chains holding me down, I had no idea I was this commitment phobic, especially where Peter's concerned, "I talk too much, I've got ADHD, I'm hyper and annoying, there are so many reasons that people prefer to have mini breaks from being around me all the time," I think I'm starting to really panic now.

"I know, and they're fools to not accept all that you are," he's so serious as he sits there holding out a box with two silvery coloured rings in it.

If this were Derek sitting there telling me I was a gift, that I was special and an Alpha, if he had picked out our rings and told me he would care for me I'd be climbing him like a tree. I know I'm stupid for having feelings for him after being his Omega and there purely for his physical needs, but I fell in love with the growly idiot and my foolish heart wants something I can never have, because he'll never feel the same way about me, especially after Brad, then Oren and now Peter.

"I…" Oh my god, I did not see this coming. Peter dragging me to the middle of nowhere to slaughter me is at the top of my list of things for him to do, being proposed to and asked to live with him is not even close to being on the list.

Patting my wrist he withdraws his hand, "You're still injured Stiles, you should rest. I've been listening to the staff and you're going to be discharged in the morning. I'll give you a few days to think about my offer."

And then my normal knee jerk reaction to ask dumb questions that often gets me nearly killed rears it's head, "And if I decline your offer?"

Red eyes burn at me, "Well, we both know I can be very persuasive if I have to be, and I really don't want to start our new relationship that way Stiles, I'd prefer you to come with me willing and be mine," he smiles as if he's not just threatened me and leaves. I shake on the bed suddenly cold and certain I'll never be warm again.

Closing my eyes I fight against nausea and wonder what my life would be like if I'd never dragged Scott out into the woods that night, how much easier things would have been. Or if I'd said yes to Peter when he offered me the Bite, I'd be a werewolf, if I'd survived, and then I'd be safe in Beacon Hills right now instead of running off and being stupid.

I know I want to scream 'No' at Peter, to run away and keep running until I get to the ends of the earth and then pitch myself off the cliff. But I'm cold bloodedly running the options and their consequences through my head, and I already know I can survive sex with a werewolf, I'm used to doing chores around the house, I can take care of his needs for him. I'll also be near New York, which is miles and miles away from Beacon Hills and my dad, so there's one less supernatural thing to try and eat him, or my old pack, or Derek.

Laying there I curl up in a tight ball knowing I'm going to say 'Yes' to keep them all safe from Peter. It's not that much of a hardship, I just hope he'll accept the stretch Stiles before penetration rule and doesn't mind my cooking.

A few tears leak out and I wipe uselessly at them, crying won't save me from the big bad creeper wolf, learning how to read him and anticipate his needs will. I'm smart I can learn to do that, just like I did with Brad and with Oren. Once I understand Peter I can start planning how to get out of this and escape from him.

The nurse comes back in and I convince her I'm upset over Oren, she pats my shoulder and puts the magazines on the side for me. She even sneaks me in a few chocolates to cheer me up, I eat them and force them to stay down but they're like lead lumps in my stomach.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	8. Chapter 8

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**008**

Sitting on the sofa at the kids refuge shelter I read the gaming magazine Peter got for me at the hospital, there are some useful cheats and inside information on a game I've been thinking of getting with my nonexistent money.

My discharge at the hospital was easy, my meagre medical insurance barely covered my basic care but I think my Social Worker kicked a few asses for me because I don't owe anything.

The kids' home is nice enough, and then Peter turned up here four days ago and proceeded to take charge of my life. I've resisted the urge to flee or whack him with a rolled up newspaper. He's ridiculously happy that I've said yes to him. Everything is ready for me to go with him to Wolf Creek, damn there are so many jokes to make about that name and not enough time, and all my school stuff is being transferred.

Glancing at the clock I fight not to jiggle my knees, he's picking me up in about five minutes and I ignore the churning in my guts. I'm going to ignore as much of this problem as I can. I'm going to be a good little Stiles and not give him lots of excuses to beat me, and I'm going to calmly explain how to stretch me so he doesn't tear anything and land me in hospital.

It's going to be okay, somehow.

Opposite me on the other sofa dream Scott is fidgeting and giving me puppy eyes, "Come home," he begs and I shake my head, I'd only be dragging Peter after me now, and I left because I didn't belong to anyone or anything in the end. No more dad, no more Scott, no more pack and Derek. It was better that I left and maybe this is the reason why. I was supposed to keep Peter occupied and away from all of them.

"Stiles," my dream friend whines, "Be careful, please be careful." I give him a small smile and wonder how crazy I am now, I'm probably a better fit for Peter's brand of crazy than he realises.

That sense of being watched washes over me and I look up to see Peter standing there, "Are you really Stiles?"

No.

No I'm not ready but I fake a smile and get to my feet wincing slightly as my bruises pull. I follow him out and sign papers to say I'm old enough to be on my own and then I follow him to his car, which is parked nearby. It's a big Hummer and I whistle impressed despite myself.

"I needed something I could drive you home in safely," he opens the passenger side door and waves me in. Wow I am seriously getting the girl treatment here. He hops in the driver's side as I buckle up, "I know you've lost all your clothes, so I took the liberty of buying you a few pieces until we get to our first stop and you can get yourself new ones."

I'm not happy with wearing what he's picked out, but it's that or the same few pieces the shelter had, leftovers that have seen much better days, the sneakers I have on have holes in them on both feet and the jeans are fraying in too many places, the t-shirt has long since lost it's motif, the hoodie is thin from too much washing.

Belatedly remembering my manners I nod, "Thank you Peter."

"You're welcome Stiles," he starts the big assed vehicle and we're off. He smoothly navigates the traffic as I twitch on my side of the car. The radio isn't on, I have nothing to read, I don't want to upset him by talking too much and I'm bored within minutes of staring out the window.

"Look in the glove compartment," his voice makes me jump and I tremble as I obey him, might as well get used to it now. I find the newest I-Pad. "I bought it for you, we'll be in the car a long time, it will give you something to do. Most of the time we'll be out of internet connection, but there are several Apps downloaded already, and we can download movies and things when we stop for the night."

"Thanks," I'm stunned by his generosity and startled at this forethought of not getting me so bored I talk his ear off. Also in the glove compartment is a charger so I can charge it in the car as we go. And then I remember tonight I'll have to pay for it.

Taking a few deep breathes I have to make myself remember that I can survive this, that it's just sex, I can do this.

Turning on the I-Pad I scroll through some of the things he has on there and I can keep myself amused for a while no problem, there's even music on there, not my kind of thing but better than nothing.

It has a classic version of Tetris and I turn the music off so as not to annoy him. I blast through it and get absorbed in planning out the blocks and building up to wipe out vast layers in one go until the speed is too quick and I'm pounding at the screen just to stay in the game.

On my eighth go I smash through my old high score and crow at my awesomeness with a fist pump. Looking up I see a smile flickering on Peter's mouth and we've left most of the city behind us as we cruise on the highway.

Squirming I decide to risk asking him, "Why are we travelling by car? Wouldn't a plane be faster?" I can't see why he'd want to drive that far.

"Yes, but I like driving and I thought we could stop on the way and look at tourist traps, there's no hurry to reach home," it's not a full explanation and I nod anyway. "How's your game?"

"'S'Good, I just beat my all time high score," I boast and proceed to tell him about the time I beat the high score at the arcade when I was ten and how I got kicked out because the reigning champion had worked there, "But dad said I did good and got me curly fries," ah curly fries, they soothe my wounds and at that time made me stop crying.

"What other games do you like?" He opens himself up to my many opinions of video games and then we reach the online games. I wax poetically about my current favourite and the frankly amazing character I've built up, how I plumbed the depths of the latest dungeon upgrade, hooked up with other players and plundered it for everything that wasn't nailed down. That was before I left Beacon Hills though and I shove that thought to one side.

"And then I hauled ass and went to the tavern, with the upgrades I got I snagged a quest I'd not been able to do and this time I waded through the guardians," I rub my hands together gleefully.

A soft chuckle from Peter and he says, "It sounds very fascinating, the designers have clearly thought about their players, you have to use cunning, teamwork and have a good understand of the game world. You'll have to show me one day and if the computer or console at home isn't good enough we'll upgrade so you can continue playing."

"Really? Most people scoff at my online games, and aren't I supposed to keep my grades up and stuff?" He's not reacting as I'm expecting him to and I mentally file everything away so I can learn him as quickly as possible.

"Stiles, you've managed to live on your own, I'm sure you're aware of the consequences of your grades failing, you'll either have limited selections of colleges that will accept you, or you'll be forced to repeat a year of high school. You're far too smart not to have thought about it," he points out and yeah I know all that because I have thought about it.

"Oh," I sit back, "So no lectures on being a dumb teenager then?"

"I'm sure we'll have those," he's tone is dry, "You are a dumb teenager after all, but you'll outgrow it in time. You should be able to enjoy the last touch of your childhood, no more worries about keeping a roof over your head, or battling to keep loved ones safe. You're a junior in high school, relax, next year you can worry about college. Then in college you can worry about courses, after college you can go to work and we have all the time in the world for you to finish growing up.

"Though," he smiles at me, "I'll let you into a little secret, sometimes when you're an adult and all the bills are paid and all the work is done, you get to be a big kid and have fun. Video games might not be my thing but I do love those ridiculous fantasy books, and I like Tolken, the film adaptations are very well done, within the limits of the media used."

"Wait you like Lord of the Rings?" My jaw drops in shock.

"Yes, as a child I always wanted to go to Rivendell and talk with the Elves," he admits, "Imagine running and playing in that hallowed place, free to be one with nature," he sighs and sees me staring at him, "What?"

"Nothing," I lie, "I just never thought you'd be the bookish type."

"I wasn't always this broken inside," he blindsides me with his own acceptance of his craziness, "Before the fire," he flinches slightly, "I loved books, I loved reading, I played the piano, I was captain of the basketball team in high school, I had children of my own."

Sometimes I forget everything the three Hale survivors lost.

"Your favourite scene of the movies?" He asks me and I take the hint letting him steer the conversation into safer waters.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	9. Chapter 9

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**009**

The day's going better than I would ever believe it could do, Peter is on his best behaviour, we talk or I play games on the I-Pad. At lunch we pull in to top up gas and I get some sandwiches with the money he gives me, he trusts me enough to let me go to the toilet on my own, not that I can really run anywhere without him catching me in minutes.

I did contemplate phoning home, of letting Scott know about Peter, but we didn't end things well between us. Experience has taught me that he won't come running for me, not if it means he has to leave Allison and she's still recovering from her mother's death and Gerard's manipulation of her.

Dad's off my list because he's my dad and I refuse to put him in danger, I know he doesn't see me as his son anymore, but I don't care, I will protect him.

Derek and the Betas, oh that's going to continue to be funny, won't give a crap about me. They won't save me, it's up to me to save them, I'm always saving someone, and I'll do it again.

Climbing back into the Hummer I hand Peter a sandwich and start on my own, it's not bad. And then we're back on the I-80 heading for wherever Peter's planned. I gaze about as we drive through Nevada, this is the first time I've been out of state and I'd be excited but there's not much to see from the moving vehicle and Peter's not hanging about, in fact he's pushing the speed limits as much as he can.

There's not too much traffic and he cruises along fairly smoothly.

The sun is starting to dip in the sky and he doesn't look like he's stopping any time soon as I look up from a round of Pac Man on the I-Pad. I'm getting hungry again and my stomach rumbles, "Sorry," he says, "I have a room booked for a few nights, I want to make it there today and go pick up a package tomorrow. We can eat in our room."

That's the opening I've been looking for, "Where are we staying tonight?"

He mentions a hotel name and then Salt Lake City, which I totally know is in Utah. We'll have to finish crossing the top of Nevada to get there. "Have you ever been there?" He asks.

"Nope, never left California before," I wiggle in my seat and cross my arms as I stare at the landscape.

"Hmm, well I'm sorry we're not stopping in Nevada, perhaps we can come back and I'll show you Las Vegas and we can nip to the Grand Canyon too," he offers.

"Really?" I've seen the city on TV so many times and there's always some documentary on the Grand Canyon. "Cool. You should know I can count cards, I rarely lose," I warn him.

"And I can hear the dealer's and players' heartbeats," he adds, "I think if we gambled properly we might get banned from all of the casinos and that would be a pity, many of them have some incredible tourist attractions and shows."

"Well crap," I mock sigh.

We share a laugh and it's like we're on an actual road trip across the country, just two guys, no threats, no werewolfism, if I can keep it like this I know I can survive this deal. And I've already seen more of the world than I ever have before, I can do this, I totally can.

My hands are slightly sweaty in the comfortable temperature of the air-conditioned and heated Hummer and I wipe them on my jeans. Peter glances at me but doesn't say anything, which I appreciate.

"So, um, what do you do as your job?" He's rented a damn Hummer, it has to be a good job.

"I trade in rare texts, dabble in the stock markets, own some property with holiday lets, win at gambling," that gets a bark of a laugh from me, "Also antiques, I have an eye for valuable items, I seem to spot them when others miss them," he's flicking his eyes at me for that last bit, I think he might be flirting with me, or maybe not, no one flirts with me.

"Oh, that sounds interesting, a bit of everything then," I nod and I can see him clearing up at a card game, he's smart enough that I bet he can count cards and he'd detect tells the others wouldn't know they were giving away. The rare texts would be linked to his book reading I guess. The stock markets and property are a surprise because with the way things are in the economy you can lose money as quickly as making any. I've seen the odd program on antiques where someone's bought an ugly piece of crap for a dollar and it turned out to be worth thousands instead.

"Hmm, I've leant to diversify, and the payout from the insurance company helped set me up, they were so worried about being sued they paid up and then some," he admits and adds, "I've tracked a few books down and I've arranged to pick them up tomorrow, they're my package. I intend to sell them on to a buyer I've found when we get home."

"Awesome," I avoid the mention of home. "What kind of profit are you making on them?" I know I'm being nosey but I need to know as much about his new life as possible, the more I know the better I can plan to stay on his good side.

"I'm buying them sight unseen for a few dollars each. If they're damaged I can sell from for maybe a few hundred, if they're in good condition I'll get closer to a few thousand."

I whistle impressed, "Wow," That's more than most people make in a month, "Not bad for a career."

"Thank you," and he tells me about another deal he made a few days ago where he found a vase in a yard sale, he picked it up for a dollar and he's just sold it for ten grand, "People can be so blind, and I do love hunting for hidden gems," I get another look from him.

"No wonder you can afford a Hummer," I shift in the giant seat and he smirks at me.

Unshockingly the rest of the ride is fairly boring, I alternate between playing games, listening to the radio and he lets me have control of it, though he keeps the volume down due to werewolf hearing, and talking about things. He knows a lot more about the world and he's fascinating to talk to. If he weren't a psycho werewolf and wasn't crazy I could really enjoy this, it does give me glimpses into what he used to be and I really wish I could have met him in a world with no Hale house fire.

The only other stop we do is so I can pee and he can keep the tank topped up as the thing drinks gas way worse than my old jeep. I sneak a few snacks in from the little bit of cash I have left, and pass him some candy to stop his blood sugar crashing, he stares at the confectionary for a minute or two, sniffs it and then eats it, "Thank you," he says around the chocolate gooeyness in his mouth.

"Welcome," I have the same problem and yep we're totally bonding, this is very important when being made prisoner. You have to get your jailer on your side, the more he likes you the nicer he'll be to you when you're both naked. And I really want Peter to be nice to me later on, there will be stretching of Stiles happening damn it.

It took me a while to learn how to sweet talk Brad, I started out right with Oren so it was easier on me that time, and now I've got a happy Peter on my hands so I should be in a position to trade with him and make it very easy on me when he demands sex.

I finally get what a lot of women grumble about and it's not nice to be the supposed weaker member of the pair, I have to use my body to survive in the relationship and I hate having to do that.

By the time we reach Salt Lake City it's dark so I can't really get a good look. Peter says the I-80 runs through the middle of the city and that our hotel is just off it.

I've gotten a little used to living in a city after Beacon Hills but I do check out what I can of the place and then we're pulling up outside a giant building that dominates the area, "Whoa, is that our hotel?" The name tastefully displayed matches the one Peter mentioned earlier.

"Yes, I've booked us a room in advance," he says as we get out, a valet takes the keys to the Hummer and a man hurries over to take our very meagre bags, well Peter's bags I don't have anything, "I thought we could eat in our room tonight and relax after our journey. Tomorrow I have that appointment, but we can go shopping and sightseeing afterwards."

I'm busy craning my neck up to the see the height of the building, I count at least twenty floors and the top is just out of sight. It's a beautiful white colour and there are balconies attached to rooms, anything else is hidden in the darkness and I gape happily to myself.

"Sir?" The man with the bags clears his throat getting both Peter's attention and mine.

Flushing and feeling awkward I stumble over to Peter who openly takes my hand in his and leads me into a giant marble sheathed foyer. At the reception desk the woman is sweet, polite and professional until Peter says his name and that he has a reservation, at that point she falls over herself to be helpful.

"Of course Mr Hale, the Presidential Suite is ready for you and your," she falters for a second as her eyes linger on my face, probably taking in my bruises, "Err, your…"

"Fiancé," he supplies and she nods accepting it.

"Do you require any assistance," her hand vaguely waves to her face and she seems at a loss of what to do. I'm clearly young, I'm obviously hurt, and Peter is much older than me.

"No, but Stiles will require food before he takes his pain medication, and we need an alarm call in the morning, I have things to do. Also Stiles will need a tourist information pack for things to do in a day, if he's up to it, and we'll need a taxi cab in the morning," he reels off a list of things and she makes notes while sneaking worried looks at me.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	10. Chapter 10

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**010**

There's so much I could do at this point to get Peter into trouble but I really don't want to see him rip people apart and besides I'm hungry, so room and food is perfect for me, I'll deal with Peter's needs after I've eaten.

Smiling innocently at the receptionist I can see her relax slightly and Peter must have caught it too as he squeezes my hand gently. The guy with our bags takes us to the bank of lifts and we get in. He presses the button near the top so we're going to be high up.

The placement makes sense as Presidential Suites tend to take up the most space and if we do have a balcony I'll have fantastic views of the city and mountains, I vaguely remember something about the lake too.

My hands are sweating again the higher the number gets on the lift, and Peter's thumb rubs over my knuckles. I have to control myself better than this, I know I can do this and I move my hand so our fingers are interlaced but it still leaves him free to keep rubbing my knuckles if he wants to.

"This way sirs," the man is overly polite and I ignore him in favour of staring at the unbelievable corridor I'm ambling down, it carpeted and so opulent it's straight out of a movie, there are chandeliers and ornate mirrors, extra pieces of furniture that serve no purpose but to look pretty and then the man is opening a door and I stumble in to find myself in a giant living room.

The room is bigger than my old bedroom in Beacon Hills and I know I was spoilt with the size of that room; in fact you could get my room in this one about four times over. There's a dining room table and matching chairs, a sofa and matching arm chairs, a coffee table, huge windows that open onto a long balcony, more chandeliers and some doors that I'm guessing the bedroom is hiding behind or the bathroom or maybe something extra.

Listening to the well-rehearsed spiel from the man I discover we have a kitchen, an extra toilet, a bedroom, and a full bathroom with tubs and showers and what could be a hot tub but I'm starting to zone out and I'm fighting the need to explore.

"Thank you," Peter tips him, "We'll call down soon for food," he turns to watch the man leave and then we're alone. "Go on, you clearly want to do something," Peter lets me go and I hunt around the suite.

The kitchen is simple and more for making coffee and keeping fruit in the fridge. The windows do open up to a balcony that runs the length of our set of rooms. The toilet is swanky and has marble all over it. The bathroom isn't much better and that much marble has to weigh a tonne and must be putting stress on the building's structure, plus I'm sure it's cold and easy to slip on when wet. There's a giant tub and a separate built in shower, two sinks, and some seriously fluffy robes hanging up.

There's only one more room to look into and that's the bedroom, the bed is huge and there are more chairs around the place, the window opens onto the same balcony as the living room and we have a giant plasma TV on the wall opposite the bed.

I don't bounce on the bed, I avoid it, and then wander out to see Peter sitting on the sofa waiting for me, "Does it meet with your approval?"

"Yes, and dude you have to see the size of the TV," I jerk a thumb behind me, he huffs a laugh and pats the sofa so I slink over to him and sit like a good little Stiles.

"Stiles," Peter starts off, "We need to talk about our physical relationship," and I know he can hear my heartbeat speed up, "You're still hurt from Oren and from the blows I gave you to keep you away from the police. I've never been with a man before so I propose that we do nothing but sleep in the same bed until we get home, and then I'm going to have to learn how to open you without causing you harm," oh thank god he's on board with stretching me, "But, I really want to do things with you," and here it comes, the blow jobs that'll make me gag and choke, "And I hope that you're interested in hand holding, having dinner together and spending time in each other's company. You are a truly fascinating young man," and he seems genuine in his statement.

"Um..." I have to stop saying that. "Okay," the handholding wasn't bad, I like food and he's just as fascinating to me.

"Good," his smile is wide, "I'll put our bags in our room, and I have a request for tonight, please can you sleep in my undershirt, you smell like another wolf and I'd prefer to transfer my scent to you as quickly as possible."

"Not a problem," I accept his terms and breathe out, a tension unknotting itself from my shoulders as I get the very unexpected bonus of time.

Peter vanishes into the bedroom and I go out onto the balcony for some air and to calm myself down, the wind is cold and I only have a t-shirt on but the city is spread out under me and I can see parts of the mountains, but when I crane my neck I can't see the lake. I'll google-fu it as I'm sure the man said we had wifi in our room.

Rustling up some menus Peter picks out steak and I'm going to go for the healthy stuff but then I see curly fries and I can't resist, Peter finds it amusing, "I'll have to remember your addiction to them, they must have magical healing properties if they can soothe a child in an arcade and now a bruised teen."

He remembered our conversation from this morning.

Shrugging I throw myself down onto a sofa and stretch out on my stomach as I connect the I-Pad to the wifi, "Do you want anything in particular on this?" I ask and he says no so I link up to find he's already registered on some sites with credit sitting there waiting to be used.

I surf the options and download some of my favourite tunes, and then add a free game or two to stop me overdosing on classics. I'm tempted to log onto my Facebook and a few other social sites but I don't want to piss Peter off, we're getting on well at the moment and I'm still achy and sore, I don't want to add to it, not that I have any friends left on Facebook and it's been over a month since I was last on there and I was down to three friends then.

A knock on the door signals our dinner arriving and I'm treated to the sight of grown men wheeling a cart in and then placing covered dishes on the dining table with a flourish and I know there are curly fries under one of the metal domes. These are the moments I wish dad or Scott were here, they mostly get my sense of humour and would find it as ridiculous as I do.

Bouncing over to the table I peek under the metal covers and locating my dinner seat myself and dig in. One of the delivery guys is giving me a look that screams disapproval so I stuff fries in my mouth and show off my worst manners, he glares at me slightly but the other guy elbows him and they back out.

Peter doesn't tip them this time and is giving them a death look, he keeps his eyes on them until they leave and only then does he wolf out. Freezing in place I'm not sure what to do as he struggles with his wolf and then he shakes himself and sits, "We'll pick out engagement rings tomorrow," his voice has an edge of wolf to it, "I will not tolerate anyone disrespecting you."

"It's cool," I try and down play it, "I'm wearing clothes that should be rags, I look like a reject from a fight scene, and I did kinda taunt him."

"I'm aware of that, but people should be able to see beneath that to the real you, they should be respectful to you," his eyes are turning red and part of me is stunned at his continued verbal acceptance of my awesomeness but the rest is terrified he's going to attack.

"Yeah well Beacon Hills had a rash of 'animal attacks' and they refused to see what was right in front of them," I counter and then realise I'm brining up the murders he committed, "Even my dad, and he used to be aware of my awesomeness, couldn't solve it," and that's a very sore point to me because it's my dad and I lied to him so much, no wonder he couldn't trust me in the end, I ruined it.

"True," he's back to normal and lifting his own metal covered dome to reveal his steak, cooked rare, "But you did, you worked it out."

"Please I had Scott being all wolfy on me, it was easier for me," I scoff and fill my face, swallowing I carry on, "Nothing like seeing your best friend's eyes go all glowy to help you really believe," I'm changing a few facts but that moment did help cement it for me.

"So we're just eating and going to sleep then?" It's a bit early for me and I've been learning meditation to help me stay in one place as I fidget, sometimes I can get it and sometimes I miss, which used to mean Brad would beat me, and Oren would kick me out of bed and I'd have to sleep on the couch once I was tired enough.

"Eventually, we can always go for a walk if you're not tired."

"Really?" I perk up, a walk would start me winding down, it's what I used to do in Beacon Hills.

"Yes, I'll happily escort you around the grounds and keep you safe on the nearby streets," he takes a bite of his steak and waves a fork at me, "We've been cooped up in the car all day, getting out will be a very pleasant end to the day."

"Cool," and this thing between us going brilliantly, I know it's going to take a nose dive soon but I'm determined to enjoy the good bits for as long as I can.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	11. Chapter 11

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**011**

"Hey Angela," I greet the nice receptionist as I walk into the foyer hand in hand with Peter after our little walk, which mostly consisted of the hotel grounds, they have this courtyard thing out back and gardens and to one side a freaking swimming pool, talk about over the top luxury.

I'm wearing Peter's jacket and he's in only his shirt as he doesn't really feel the cold, the warmth of my body is causing the smell of him to rise up, I'm thinking it's a sneaky way to transfer his scent to me and get on my good side.

"Did you have a nice time Stiles?" she asks and the five minutes I spent chatting to her while Peter organised an extra night in the suite is worth it, she's totally relaxed and not longer thinks Peter's out to molest me, which he is, but she can't know that and live.

"Awesome, you were right there were lots of things to look at, and the gardens are spectacular at night, loved the way you've gotten them lit up, and have you seen the size of the swimming pool?" I wave my free arm around for emphasis.

Laughing she hands us the key card to our room, "I'm glad you had fun, I'll have your information pack ready for you in the morning, and I've arranged for a taxi."

"Thanks," I lean on the desk, "Hey, we've had a few changes of plans and we're gonna use tomorrow for shopping and stuff," I screw my nose up, "My stuff is kinda dead, Peter said we could stay another day and use that last day for sightseeing, do you know any good shopping areas?"

"I'll add them to the list for you Stiles," she makes a few notes.

"Thanks Angela," I give her a wave and then take Peter's hand in both of mine and dance backwards towards the lifts, "Come on Peter, nap time, I'm dead tired," and I am tired, drained from the toll of today and I may be bouncing on my feet but I can sense the energy crash coming.

"Of course Stiles," and he moves gracefully forward, dipping he somehow gets me into his arms bridal style and I yelp in as manly a way as I can, over his shoulder I can see Angela's amused at our antics.

He holds me the whole ride up and I try and wiggle out of his arms but he gives me a look with a touch of red eye and I subside. Up the corridor to our room he acts like my weight is negligible, and it probably is, he lets me card the door so he can keep holding me and then he carries me into the bedroom and gently places my feet on the floor.

"Thanks," at least I think its thanks, at this rate I'll have to hand back my man card.

"You're more than welcome Stiles, I enjoyed carrying you, it pleased me," he leans forwards and I fight my instinct to flinch back. His lips caress mine and I get my very first kiss, ever, "I'll go and change for bed, I'll leave my undershirt out for you."

I'm left standing there touching my fingers to my lips, oh god please let that be an indication of how careful he's going to be of me when we have sex.

He's not long and comes out in one of the big fluffy robes, so I skitter past him and close the door for some privacy. The marble does make the room a little cold and I hurry to strip down to my boxers. His undershirt is by a sink and I pull it on to stay warm.

Laid out is a brand new toothbrush and toothpaste, taking the hint and wanting to have unfuzzy teeth I clean them methodically. In the mirror my bruises are turning some lovely colours, I twist and check them out, they do look nasty and it's a wonder the cops weren't called when we got here.

There's a fluffy robe for me too and it's so soft I have to stand there and run my fingers over it. Peeing, I flush the toilet, wash my hands and then I can't think of any believable reason to hang around in here any longer and I exit the room and go to the bedroom.

Peter's already in bed, he's taking up the right hand side and I suppose I'm on the left hand side.

I can't see much other than his head over the covers and frankly I'm showing very little skin so I shrug the robe off and get under the covers. He turns to me, "I've put the TV remote on your side, if you want to watch it because you can't sleep please just turn the volume down for me."

"Okay," I nod and his hand turns the main light off.

Plunged into darkness I lay there and stare at where the ceiling should be, beside me Peter shifts and then goes still, I zero in on his breathing which quickly evens out and yeah he has been driving for hours, werewolf or not, it's tiring to do that much in one go.

Tossing and turning a bit I know I'm close to sleep and as my eyes adjust I can see the unfamiliar glow of the electronics in the room, the soft edge of light surrounding the curtains from the window. The hotel doesn't creak but every building has its own noise and the roar of traffic is muted far below us.

Sleep tugs at me and I tumble down hopeful of my future for the first time in months.

Sprawled out on my left side I can feel something hot all down my back and an arm is draped over my waist, the hand tucked up against my chest. Someone is breathing into the nape of my neck and I lay there baffled for a few seconds, both Brad and Oren are much taller than me. Whoever it is, is at least wearing underwear but nothing else.

Peter.

My heart kicks up and I settle it remembering how nice he's being so far. Except there's a hard swollen dick pressed into my back and he so has morning wood. He's said he won't do anything until we're 'home' I should be safe but my heart is refusing to listen to me and my palms are sweating again.

"Your fear is delicious," he murmurs into my neck and I shiver, he might look harmless but Peter is a psycho wolf, and finding my fear delicious is only the tip of his crazy iceberg.

His hand on my chest rubs a soothing circle and then I realise it's right over my heart which pounds faster and faster like a jack hammer, he groans and bucks his hips, "God Stiles, stop, you smell and feel so good like this," his full body shiver isn't helping, "I don't want to take you in fear, I need you to be mine willingly," he moans the last part and then flings himself away from me.

"I need the bathroom," he whines and the usually debonair Peter lurches at a fast walk from the bedroom, the heel of his hand pressing down on his cock. He's only got on a pair of those tight clingy underpants and it hides nothing as he hurries away.

Wow, I think he's going to keep his word and not do anything to me for a while, to the point that he's extremely aroused and is probably jacking off in the shower.

Not wanting to hear anything I turn the TV on and the volume is low, there are cartoons and that's an excellent way to convince my heart to calm down, his actions so far are not up to his usual psychotic blood drenched standard.

Losing myself in the silly animations I glance at the clock and after an hour I'm seriously worried. Scott and Jackson have both torn up the locker room on more than one occasion and I dread to think of the bill if Peter tears up the bathroom here.

Debating with myself I roll my eyes at my stupidity and ease out of bed to go to the bathroom door. Knocking on it I call out, "Peter? Are you okay? Do we need to flee the hotel for any reason?"

Nothing, though I think the shower is on.

Trying the handle I turn it and stick my head around the door, yep the shower is on with a shadow of a man behind the frosted glass and then I hear, "Stiles," in a drawn out groan mixed with a partial howl and Peter just came.

"I'll leave you to it," I retreat to the bedroom and get back into bed, oh my god, has he been at it for an hour? I can't smell that good to him, can I?

The cartoons don't hold my attention as much and my eyes drift to the bathroom door over and over. Fidgeting I debate getting the I-Pad from the other room when the phone on the bedside table rings and I jump.

"Hello?" My voice is steady and friendly.

"This is an alarm call for Mr Hale and Mr Stilinski. Will you require anything else sir?" The man's voice is far too bright and bubbly for nearly eight in the morning.

"Um, maybe breakfast but we can call that down later, thanks," I remember a trick one of the deputy's taught me, if you smile while speaking on the phone it shows in your tone, even if you're in the shittiest mood it still sounds like you're happy so I do that.

"Thank you sir, I'll let them know you'll be calling for breakfast soon. You have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too," I hang up and the bathroom door finally opens. "Um, we just had our alarm call, you know the one you ordered…" Please let him be back to harmless.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	12. Chapter 12

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**012**

He's mostly back to harmless. He's standing there naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his perfect werewolf abs on display and his expression is embarrassed, "The bathroom is free, I've left out my shower gel and my shaving things for you. You may wish to take your robe with you, I unfortunately forgot mine."

There are so many ways I could get myself into trouble right now, but I man up, zip my mouth closed and grab my robe. Firmly shutting the door behind me I go for a shower and there's the smell of cum in the air. Oh dear god how many times did he go? How the hell am I supposed to survive him having multiple orgasms?

Dream Isaac is standing near by and I shudder under his gaze, he was able to survive his abusive father, I can survive Peter. I've successfully bargained with both Brad and Oren in the past, I'm fairly sure I can do the same with Peter.

Stripping down I cringe as I step into the shower only all of the evidence is long gone and I'm good at pushing problems away so I turn on the water and pretend everything is fine in the posh marble encrusted bathroom and refuse to entertain thoughts of marble lined tombs.

Peter's shower gel is nice and the smell is extremely faint, which would make sense for his werewolf senses. His razor isn't one of those cheap throw away ones it's a metal frame thing, I would test the sharpness with my finger but after doing that a few times with dad's I'd learnt that they were in fact _really_ sharp. The shaving cream is in the same range as the shower gel and I get rid of my smattering of facial hair, for once my face doesn't feel like it's been peeled raw.

There's hair products lined up on the counter and I can't help but smirk that Peter's fabulous hair needs to be tamed with mousse and the image of him with wild frizzy hair makes me snigger under my breath.

Putting my robe on I sneak to the bathroom door and peak out, I can hear him talking on the phone in the lounge and dart unseen to the bedroom door. Closing it behind me I'm congratulating myself on my tiny victory when I spot the clothes on the bed.

And there's a note resting on top of them.

"Stiles, here are some of your clothes that I bought for you, please wear them today." He hasn't even signed it and I huff glancing about for the clothes I had on yesterday but he's one step ahead of me and has already taken them. I take a minute or so to argue in my own head about how creepy this is and whether or not this signals me giving up control to him and frankly I'm well aware that he holds all of the cards compared to my none.

Crap.

Giving up I take the robe off and put the clothes on, I do want to go out shopping, and I do want to see the sights, and Peter running for the shower instead of attacking me has to be a positive moment in this thing we have going on.

Everything fits and it's not bad, he's picked a plain t-shirt in blue and a hoodie to match. My boxers are plain black as are my socks and the jeans are a twist cut that's surprisingly flattering on me.

Walking out I find him standing on the balcony, I know he knows I'm here and he looks over to me with a smile, "I'm glad the clothes fit, we'll get replacements for them today so you'll be more comfortable."

And this is another good sign that he won't be cruel to me like Brad was, and he's trying to control himself unlike Oren. All I have to do is not screw this up and I can be a bruise free area.

"What happened this morning?" Is out of my mouth before I can censor it and I wince, damn you brain to mouth filter, why won't you work? And if it doesn't work I've often wondered how you get it replaced, because is it like a net? And if it is like a net then can you repair it and reweave part of the net, because they do that to fishing nets on those documentaries on TV and I've even had a go and had to wait three hours for dad to get home from work to cut me loose again.

Or has part of my net come loose and is now floating about my brain strangling ideas that are innocently swimming past, and that would explain things…

"Stiles," Peter is right in front of me and I shriek in as manly a way as I can as I leap backwards flailing my arms. "You need to have breakfast and then take a dose of Adderall," a menu is being held out and I take it gingerly.

"Um," I flick through the choices, I've done plenty of research on ADHD and I did have junk food last night so today I'll avoid the obvious carbs and stick to fruit and then eggs for protein to keep me going until lunch, and they have freshly squeezed orange juice. I mumble it to Peter who nods and then phones our order down.

Restless I prowl around the suite and poke at things I was too tired to last night. There aren't a lot of things stored in the cabinets, I guess they're more for decoration than anything or for guests to keep things in there but what would a guest keep in there?

Roaming into the kitchen I go through every drawer and cupboard exploring and then getting bored I find Peter sitting on the sofa scrolling through something on his phone, passing through I end up in the bedroom and explore the built in wardrobe and cupboards.

They're all empty and I discover a small safe at the back of one of them. There's the obligatory bible in the bedside table and I run out of things to explore so I head to the bathroom.

The marble is no less tacky this time around, there are two hairdryers, the lights on the mirrors are blinding if you catch them wrong and I blink furiously to clear my eyes of flashing spots, and I now know where the extra towels and blankets are kept.

"Stiles," Peter calls out, "Breakfast is here," and right on cue my stomach rumbles.

My breakfast is good and I notice that Peter has mostly meat on his, there are hams and sliced sausage, and two pieces of toast he slathers in honey. Cleaning up the last of my scrambled eggs I see him pull out the normal jar of Adderall I have and he measures out a dose for me, "There you go."

Knocking the medication back I sip on my orange juice and watch him finish off his toast. He doesn't lick his fingers he wipes them on a handy napkin. Then he drinks his coffee and we sort of enter into a staring contest, I'm not doing it on purpose but my eyes catch his and they really are incredibly blue.

"Thank you," his voice startles me and I must have said that out loud. "Are you getting less restless now?" He drinks more coffee and I really want coffee, but me and coffee are a bad combination.

"Getting there," I tell him and my brain is starting to slow down to focus more on things and I know I'll soon be able to concentrate and not get so distracted.

"Good, in that case I'll answer your question from earlier," and I tense not a hundred percent sure I want to know the answer to my question. "The last time I did anything sexual was before the fire, so it's been a while for me," my jaw drops, "You smelt amazing and your body is incredibly tempting at the best of times," oh my god, he thinks I'm tempting, "That led to a much longer than usual bout of releasing that pent up pressure…"

"Oh thank god," I breathe out interrupting him, "I thought you were going to want the werewolf equivalent of multiple and I was going to die the first time we ever did anything," I sprawl in my chair in relief as Peter blinks at me in shock.

"No, I may be a werewolf and I have lots of stamina and a fast recovery time but this morning was not a normal thing," he seems to be at a loss of words.

"Cool, so when are we going out shopping and do you know what time lunch is?" my knees bounce up and down and he goes quiet again.

"Hmm, we can leave after you've brushed your teeth and we can stop for lunch when you get hungry…" he says and I flee the table ready to hit the city and do something. Plus he's calmed me down, this morning was a freak thing for him, and really, no jerking off for over seven years? No wonder he was at it so much.

Also as much as I'm completely freaked out about this whole having sex thing with him, I'm in Salt Lake City for the first time in my life and I'm going to enjoy it, I'll push the inevitable physical thing to the back of my mind because been there and done that, and right now I've not done being a tourist.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	13. Chapter 13

See Chapter One for all warnings,

Sorry my bad for not posting...

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**013**

Peter's big meeting, for his packages he's hoping to make money on, is at a giant bookshop, but it's a confusing jumbled up mess inside. The bookshelves don't match and have clearly been bought second if not third hand. Books from every genre and type litter the shelves and handy tables throughout the shop.

It smells of paper and dust. Sunlight filters down from windows in the roof and alleviates most of the gloom while strategically positioned standing lights throw patches of illumination around.

There are sofas and seats in strange places with nooks and crannies all over. Checking out the closest shelf of books I follow the maze like interior until I'm lost in a book nirvana.

Running my fingers over the titles I laugh to myself as I find Shakespeare next to the latest pop psychology book, myths next to car repair manuals, there's no rhyme or reason to any of it and I lose myself in exploring.

And then I rediscover an old childhood book; I slip it from the shelf and make myself comfortable on a nearby chaise long thing. I'm drawn back to the time my mom would read to me and I chant the silly poems under my breath.

I follow that book with an adventure book, one in which no one ever dies and they always make it home in time for tea and they always save the day.

A soft cough and I glance up to see Peter waiting for me, "Sorry," I scramble to my feet and put the book back.

"Don't be. Did you have fun?" He asks.

"Dude, this place is amazing," I wave a hand, "Crazy, but amazing."

"I thought you'd like it," he takes my hand and he's leading me out of the maze and then out of the shop to the street. He's held my hand since we left the hotel and been nothing but a gentleman to me.

"So did you get what you came here for?" I ask as he guides us down a busy sidewalk, I'm craning my neck trying to see everything at once.

"Yes," there's a pleased tone and I flick my eyes to see the most self satisfied expression it makes me chuckle and his grin gets bigger, "Not only did he have the two books I wanted, he'd managed to get the third book in the series making it complete, and they're all in excellent condition, which means my buyer is going to pay me a lot of money and probably a bonus."

"Awesome," I bump his shoulder with mine, "Congratulations on the big hunt, you totally brought down the big game today," I tease him a little and please dear god let him have a sense of humour that's at least partially compatible with mine.

He laces our fingers together and bumps my shoulder back, "Yes I did, didn't I. Oh and Stiles?"

"Yeah Peter?" He hasn't been threatening and I'm staring at the sightseeing bus going past.

"Wolf and predator jokes are fine, and that was both funny and complimentary, but do not do dog jokes," he warns me and I nod accepting the restriction, I have tons of wolf jokes to work my way through. "Good, now that my chore is over, let's get your engagement ring," my feet stumble at that and I'd thought he'd forgotten.

It's one thing to know that some time in the future we will be co-habiting and that he'll be demanding sex from me, even marrying me to keep me as his. It's another to walk around with his ring on my finger and advertising that we're 'together'. With Brad and Oren I could pretend I was free when they were away from me, a ring makes it more permanent, more real.

My hands are sweating again and I wipe my free one on my jeans, Peter's eyes slide to me over and over as we walk and I can feel my breath getting shorter and shallower.

Dragging me to one side, he takes us out of the flow of traffic, and then stands there holding me as I fight off the panic attack and cling to him. Since he's the main reason I'm panicking, it's ironic that I'm clutching at him to try and stave off the attack.

"Listen to my breathing," he tells me and I close my eyes to hear it even as I feel his chest rise and fall steadily. Blanking my mind I focus as best I can until the panic is gone and I'm standing in his arms on a busy street. "Better?" A hand soothingly rubs my back.

"Yes, thank you," and here's another sign that I will probably be able to survive our future together, I'm not convinced he's not a nutjob but he has a better handle on it than he used to.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks and I stiffen against him. "I'll take that as a no, but Stiles, I am your Alpha, I will take care of you and I'll do my best to make you as happy as I can."

My shoulders relax and I nod into his shoulder, as we're almost the same height this is a little weird.

"Good, now we will go and look at rings, and we will pick the ones out that we like…"

"We?" I thought it was just me getting a ring so he can show possession of me.

"Yes, I have to show the world that I belong to you too," he sounds reasonable so I dare to pull back and stare into his blue eyes while trying not to challenge him.

"So not just me then?" It's a dumb question as he's already answered it.

"No, not just you," he tilts his head, "Did you think it was just you?" I shrug instead of answering, "You're not a girl Stiles, yet you have the same incredible inner strength of a woman all mixed in with the strength of a man," he muses, "Perhaps that is why you call to me so strongly, I find your intelligence and strength very attractive."

And he's back to giving me compliments I'm not sure I deserve, no ones ever found me attractive before, annoying, loud, persistent, awkward and embarrassing, those traits I'm used to, but attractive is new.

"You don't believe me," he's shocked, "Stiles we are going to have to talk about your self esteem issues one day, but for now, please allow me the honour of putting a ring on your finger, and one on my own to signal to everyone that I am very serious about you and that you are no longer on the market and I will KILL anyone who can not take a hint that you are for me and me alone," for a second his eyes blaze red and then fade to blue.

"Okay," I don't want an enraged Alpha werewolf rampaging here so I let him hold my slightly sweaty hand and lead me through Salt Lake City to pick out a ring I have no interest in getting.

While Peter's little declaration of how awesome I am is a major ego boost, it gives me a new problem to try to plan around. What happens when Peter realises I'm not awesome? My relationship with my dad floundered and died because I kept lying to him to protect Scott and then the pack, to the point it broke down completely, and then after he started dating that gold digging tramp and her money draining brood, all it took was her son getting caught with drugs, and blaming me, for my world to partly end and I lost my dad and my home when the tramp kicked me out because my dad couldn't bare to face me anymore.

Thank god for Derek and his den of despair. Moving in with him and Isaac wasn't so bad but of course I had to finish crushing on that brooding Alpha and fall in love with him. I hadn't even realised I was the Omega of the fledgling pack, poor Derek, he does try to protect us, and there was me flinging myself at him, until he agreed to take what I offered willingly. He might not have been gentle all the time, but he never hurt me, he never pushed me into things I didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable with before hand.

The moment of peace didn't last.

The pack kept getting challenged, I got hurt a few times, and then Derek ordered me to stay out of the fights because of it, and I tried so hard not to get in the way, to actually be useful, only I was reduced to research, to housework, to keeping out of their way during the important bits.

I refuse to think about the verbal fights we had over that, looking back I'm lucky he didn't beat me for overstepping my boundaries as an Omega. I'd still go back in a heartbeat if it were possible. I'd wait as patiently as I could for the crumbs of his attention, he was always being pulled in so many directions at once, I did everything I could think of to ease what burdens I could for him.

My schoolwork dropped slightly, I was benched again at Lacrosse, and it didn't matter how much I did for everyone else I couldn't catch a break, no one was there when I needed it and if I'd just been better, stronger, something more than a hyperactive bastard with ADHD, maybe Derek and Scott wouldn't have almost died on me, I could have saved them so much pain, I could have gotten them out sooner instead of failing them.

After that I tried even harder to do better, but I'm not the hero, I'm not the one that wins the day and I pushed myself to be more without success. I was so glad when summer was in sight because no more Mr Harris and his constant detentions for nothing. No more coach berating me for not being tough enough to take hits like the werewolves could.

But I got sick before summer and the medical insurance we had barely stretched to cover the medication I needed. They said the chest infection wasn't getting better, that it was probably the subway station making it worse and Derek told me I couldn't stay there anymore.

Scott already had a spare room for me and I convalesced for a week when I overheard him and Mrs McCall arguing about money, about how tight their budget was, even with the minimum wage I was pulling in for being my age and at school it wasn't enough. And then they talked about my dad and how he'd asked that woman to marry him, to adopt her brats who were horrible and disrespectful to him. Lastly a new female Alpha had sauntered into town and she'd propositioned Derek, she'd join him for a few years and give him a stable partnership, even children for him to keep, but as a werewolf she couldn't accept him having an affair with a human male at the same time, it was her or me; she could back him up where I couldn't, where I wasn't good enough in a fight she'd be able to step in and do serious damage to an enemy.

It took me two hours to work through all the pros and cons and I had only one single thought at the end of it.

They were all better off without me.

The following day I left a short note, and slipped out of the house to the bus stop, it wasn't that long until I was in Sacramento ready to start a werewolf free life.

That's all running through my head on a loop when Peter stops and I look up to see a very large and fancy jewellery store in front of us.

"No," I yank my hand out of his, "No," and I turn and run off blindly chased by a past I'll never outrun.

Oh god, Peter's going to kill me slowly when he finds out how very unstrong I am.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	14. Chapter 14

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**014**

The city passes me in a blur and I keep running in sneakers with large holes in them, I have no ID, no money, no nothing except the memories in my head urging me on, it's not a true panic attack but it's close.

A stitch in my side starts growing, my feet ache and a cramp threatens, only then do I slow down and jog gently along a few blocks trying not to think about the jaywalking I've committed or the near misses with traffic as I dashed out in front of cars and vans.

There's an opening to one side and I'm in a small park, a handy bench is waiting for me to collapse onto with a groan and I mentally kick myself for being stupid. I have no way to communicate with Peter, who's probably going to tear my throat out and I don't care, I'm just so damn tired.

"Crap," I lean forward and bury my face in my hands, I've messed up again, he's never going to let me live now, and he might try and hurt my dad because of me. "Crap," I mutter again, and I'm so tired of everything. Of not being good enough at anything else except screwing up.

The guidance councillor said that when you're in hell you should keep walking, that if you're drowning you should hold your breath for those few precious seconds more. But I'm so tired. So tired of being lonely, of being overlooked, of destroying other peoples lives, of hurting so much all the time, of not being in control of my own brain.

With the adrenaline of my flight draining out of me I can feel all those lovely bruises pulling at me, and a spot between my shoulder blades itches. I know there's no where I can run to that Peter can't find me, time to face the music. "Now how do I get back to the hotel and more importantly to Peter?" I start looking for street signs and I'm going to have to ask for directions so I can go to my own funeral.

"The hotel is easy, we'll get a cab, and I'm right here," comes Peter's voice from behind me. I yell, flail and fall off the bench I'm sitting on to gape at him standing there calmly.

"Peter," I press a hand to my chest, damn werewolves and their sneaking up behind people.

"Stiles," he sits down on the bench and looks at me thoughtfully, though his eyes are flashing red then blue, "Do you want to tell me what that was about?" He's not outwardly angry and seems more curious than anything, though with Peter it's often hard to tell, he's probably waiting to lure me somewhere before killing me.

"Not really," I sigh and pick myself up to sit next to him, "But I should." Composing myself I tell him the truth, "You've made a mistake. I'm not strong, I'm not the hero, I'm barely an Omega. If you keep me with you I'll wreck your life Peter, I'll destroy things without meaning to and you'll regret being with me. I'm nothing special. In the end you'll realise you're better off without me that a Stiles free existence is the way to go.

"It's my fault that Scott got bitten, it was my idea to go tromping in the woods to try and find half a dead body," and the guilt still eats at me. "I helped get Derek arrested because he buried his sister's body and then again at the school when you attacked him and he nearly died. Because of me so many people nearly died and my dad got hurt several times and even got fired once."

I hug my arms around me and face the truth, "I really did try and keep up with the wolves, but I'm only human, and I'm glad I didn't take the bite from you, I'd have made a terrible werewolf, I have impulse control issues, not exactly something you want when you're a werewolf."

A hand on my shoulder stops me, "Stiles," he pauses and I wait for him to nod and walk away from me, or kill me, "You are many things and right now you're an idiot," and I am an idiot, "But believe me when I say that I picked the right boy in the woods that night, Scott is a very stupid, ungrateful little puppy but I nearly won the battle against him and my nephew, and I nearly got control of the pack again when I came back from the dead. The only thing that's saved them for so long, not only from my plotting, but everything else, is you, not that they bothered to listen to you half of the time."

Another hand reaches up to turn my face to him, "If I had bitten you that night in the woods instead of Scott, I now know I would have lost faster, you'd be the Alpha and I'd never have been able to come back from the dead, you'd have made sure of that."

I don't believe him.

"Stiles," his fingers on my face stroke my jaw, "Everyone, including you, underestimates you. You flail around in that adorable uncoordinated way of yours, your mouth runs on with the strangest of facts and thoughts, yet you taught Scott more about control in a few days than the most experienced of Alphas can teach the newly bitten in a few months. You put together the facts and linked them so that the truth about Kate," he snarls her name, "Was known, you've never faltered in being loyal even when those around you abandoned you. Even Gerard realised how dangerous you were and tried to remove you from the end game of the Kanima disaster, an end game you still turned up to bringing the much needed Lydia with you."

Those blue eyes appear to be genuine but then Peter's crazy, which I helpfully point out, "Um, you realise you're technically not the sanest person on the planet, right?"

"I'm aware of my mental imbalance," he concedes, "I've found it helps to free me from those pesky moral constraints others suffer from, another reason I need you so much, you'll help me stay more level headed and less likely to commit mass murder." He's back to being matter of fact, "And I truly find you fascinating, I can't guess at most of your actions, while your ADHD and being human give you significant challenges in matching me, allowing me to be the greater force in this relationship, yet keeping you as the Alpha or budding Alpha I know you are."

"Alpha?" Now I know he's playing me and I glare at him.

"Alpha. You Stiles are, or will be, an Alpha. And yes humans can be Alphas, in fact a pack with humans in it will be more stable, more resourceful and if they're lucky enough to have a human Alpha alongside their werewolf Alpha, whether or not they're in a relationship, the pack will flourish and grow holding territories wisely and only the most fool hardy take on those packs," his fingers are still brushing my jaw and then he cups my neck, "Stiles, I've spent the time Derek kicked me out of his territory working on finding my own territory, I've found a nice den, I've built up a business, I can provide for us both, come with me, let me show you and you'll see how much you're worth, let me prove it to you."

Swallowing I'm caught up in his blue eyes again, he terrifies me and yet he's very charismatic. Before I can say anything he kisses me softly, his lips move over mine and aren't demanding in the slightest. I freeze and let him kiss me, this is only my second ever kiss and it's nice, it's not bad, lips touching mine is a good thing, a nice thing. It's so much better than him killing me.

When Peter pulls away from me I go to follow and he smiles at me, "I didn't push you did I? I did say nothing would happen until we got home. If you want to wait…"

"No. No, you didn't push me, kissing is fine," I look at his mouth for a few seconds and then he's kissing me again. This time I hesitantly kiss him back trying to match how he moves and this is even better, I press into him wanting something and the hand on my jaw slips around to the back of my head reeling me into him.

I've read so much about kissing and sex, and I've watched way too much porn, but I've never understood how you 'deepen' a kiss, except he does and this flash of something runs through me as I cock my head to one side giving him more access. Our mouths are closed and we're not doing much but I wave a hand and grab his shirt struggling to get some kind of purchase as I get a little dizzy and I wrench myself back from him when tiny flickers of desire and lust start up.

I'm panting and confused, what the hell just happened, how did he do that to me? I lick my dry and tingling lips to see his eyes trace the path of my tongue. If reading about kissing is suddenly making sense I wonder what kissing with tongues would do and I throw myself back from him not trusting myself to find out.

"Stiles?" He's concerned and I wave it off trying to get my breath back. "You have been kissed before, haven't you?" He asks and I flush as I shake my head, "Oh," he rears back his eyes wide, "Then if you allow me to kiss you again I'll tone it down…"

"We can do that again?" I'm in two minds about that but I liked the kissing and zero in on his tempting mouth confused on how this is going to impact on us and our 'relationship'.

"If you want to," he's studying me again and stands up offering me a hand, "Are you ready to pick out a ring now? I promise that I truly do want you in my life Stiles, I was willing to risk the wrath of Derek and his pathetic puppies to come and coax you to me."

I know I don't have much of a choice, if I go with Peter willingly he's already proven he'll be gentle with me, I've seen his style of 'persuasion' in the past and I really don't want it. He's also been nice to me and his brand of crazy apparently has a Stiles appreciation add on pack, as well as the fact he's the only person in the world to want to kiss me, as reasons go that one is a bit pathetic, but apparently I can be pathetic and I'm getting tired of fighting and getting nowhere.

Putting my hand in his I let him draw me to my feet and a giant smile breaks out over his face, "Thank you Stiles, thank you for giving me this chance to prove how good I can be to you." It's not lost on me that he holds my hand tightly and weaves our fingers together so it'll be harder for me to pull my hand out of his and run away.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	15. Chapter 15

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**015**

Bright lights reflect off the many shiny surfaces around me as I wander around the jewellery store with Peter, a pushy saleswoman tries to earn her commission and fails dismally. Neither of us has liked any of the rings she's shown us so far and she's getting desperate.

Peter's waved around our future wedding rings and it turns out they're plain platinum bands, he's going to get them engraved when we both agree on the engraving. To do that he dropped my hand and I massage feeling back into it.

Unsettled from my earlier panic and from his kisses, which are still confusing the hell out of me, I edge away and leave him to deal with her, she's too forceful and isn't listening to him, it's an interesting experiment to see how long he'll last before he snaps at her, already there's a red glint in his eyes.

Mooching through the store I escape from them and explore, though I'm careful to stay well away from the exits in case Peter follows after me and thinks I'm running away from him, the store is huge and laid out across three different levels, I amuse myself and check out a long display of the classic gemstones. I've known diamonds come in different colours but I've not seen them before and the canary yellows and pale blues are okay, the black is strange and then I'm among rubies and emeralds.

Sapphires turn out to come in different colours too, there are the traditional blues, and there are pinks and oranges, even greens. One necklace is made up of a rainbow of sapphires and I have to admit I'm impressed, I'm also curious as to what elements are fused with the sapphire to cause that. I'll google-fu it at the hotel.

I'm about to walk away when a ring catches my eye and I lean in to see a silver coloured ring and in the middle of it is a square cut sapphire, the card beside it reads 'colour change sapphire'. The stone is red, but the card has a picture of the ring and it has a blue sapphire and beside it is exactly the same picture but with the red sapphire.

"Colour change?" I murmur.

"Yes sir," a male voice says smoothly and I jump as the employee glides closer, "Very rare sapphires have the fascinating ability to change colour depending on the type of light they're in, this particular stone is mostly blue, with a dash of purple under sunlight; and then in artificial light, as it is here, it's red with a dash of purple." He points to the card, "The photographs let you see the full range of this change."

"Huh," I study the ring and it seems similar to the wedding rings Peter's picked out, plain and solid, the square sapphire is the only decoration on it. "Can you wait right here and not let anyone buy it just yet?" I ask the man and he nods with a smile. Now that is my kind of salesperson.

Hurrying back the way I came I can see Peter's calm facade is breaking rapidly so I call out, "Peter!" Waving I bound over, "I think I've just found the ring for you," I'm pleased that I'm doing something right for once, even if it is binding me closer to him when I'd prefer to be on my own.

Grabbing his hand I tug him to follow and he really must want to get away from the woman because he doesn't argue with me. The salesman is right where I left him and he stands up straighter as I drag Peter over, "There," I point, "That one, it's a colour change sapphire, it's blue in sunlight and red in artificial light," and I wait for Peter to get the hidden meaning about his eyes.

He doesn't disappoint and chuffs a laugh at me, squeezing my hand gently, "Then lets see it up close," he motions to the man who's realised he's no longer indulging a penny-less kid and might get a sale out of this.

The salesman handles the ring, which turns out to be platinum, and takes it into the light and yep it changes colour to blue, then back to the case where it's red. Peter glances at me and then nods, "Done, we'll take it, can you measure it for my finger?"

At this point they mess around with what looks like a bunch of keys but turns out to be rings that Peter and the man fuss over. The ring is going to have to be resized and there's a jewellery maker on hand to do that, we're invited to sit and have coffee as they deal with it and the store manager himself ushers us to a set of love seats.

In the background the original saleswoman looks like she's swallowed a lemon and glares at the salesman who grins mockingly at her. No love lost there then.

Quickly bored my knees are jiggling when Peter taps one of them, "You can continue looking around the shop if you want," he offers and I'm released to prowl around some more, pleased that he's letting me out of his sight and trusting me not to do anything too stupid.

I wind my way through and find myself in a different section, this part looks less expensive and the jewellery isn't so refined, it has more shape to it and I'm browsing the necklaces, some of which have leather cords, when I notice some rings that are different.

"Sir?" A woman is standing there, "Are you looking for thumb rings?"

"Is that what they are? They're not the same as the others," she opens the case up and lifts the tray of rings out. The base of the ring is plain but in the middle is another ring that you can spin around the original ring and that one's decorated with various symbols.

Some of the rings are silver, or gold and a few are platinum ones. I find an awesome gold one with tiny wolf shapes running round it and a mini crescent moon that if you trace it around the ring waxes full and then wanes again in an endless cycle.

There's also a platinum one whose inner ring has mock letters running around it, you can almost make out words but it changes every time you spin the ring. I could stare at them for hours.

Holding up the platinum one I ask, "I don't suppose this counts as an engagement ring does it?" If it does I could convince Peter to get it or the gold one for me.

Amused she shakes her head, "Sorry sir, not normally, but if you really like them they would do, or I could help you find another one for your young lady?"

"Oh, no, the ring is for me, there are no girls in this relationship," and I flush realising what I've just said.

"Okay, what kind of thing are you looking for?" She asks not the slightest bit flustered by my rambling.

"I have no idea," I jerk my thumb backwards toward the rest of the shop, "We've wandered through there and found one for Peter, but the rest are either big chunky things or..." I flap my hand and she nods seemingly understanding, or more likely really good at dealing with difficult customers.

"Right, well we have two possible choices so far," she leaves the two thumb rings out and puts the rest away. "You'll notice most engagement rings have a single stone, or a stone surrounded by diamonds," she starts pulling other trays out and placing them on the countertops, "Now what metal are you looking for?"

"Our wedding rings are platinum," I try and be helpful and get a smile from her, as she hunts high and low for rings.

Twenty minutes later I've rejected everything she's shown me when a stone I've never seen before makes me stop and stare. It's not any one colour, each facet is a different colour, there's purple, green, blue, red, brown and hints of yellow. Picking up the ring I waggle it and the colours all move.

"Mystic topaz," she says, "It's made from clear topaz and they add a tiny layer of titanium to the bottom." I nod fascinated by it and more determined than ever to learn about the different gemstones out there.

Its an oval shaped stone set in platinum and the ring itself is made up of thin strands of platinum woven together. The whole band isn't that thick or heavy, but it's not girly either.

We check out a few more rings but I'm drawn to the topaz one and I think I've found it, "This one, but I need to check with Peter first," she puts it to one side with the other two and I go off to find Peter paying for his ring and accepting the little bag it's in. "Hey, I think I've got my one sorted," and then he happily tags along back to the counter my possible ring is on.

"What kind of stone is it?" He asks as absorbed by the colours as I am.

I spout off my newfound knowledge and then he notices the other two rings, he plays with them and nods, "Well Stiles, it seems you found our engagement rings for us, and if you like them would you like to add the thumb rings too?"

"Really?" I'm taken aback that he's being so generous when I'm not putting out until we get to Wolf Creek.

"Really," he nods and now it's my turn to have my fingers measured and the woman takes one look at my fingers and narrows down the sizes, I have to slip the loops of the keyring thing over my fingers and off easily but still have enough resistance I won't lose the rings.

As my rings are stock items, and not bespoke like Peter's, she only has to go to storage to get mine. I walk out of the store with a little baggie holding my engagement ring and I'm allowed to wear my new thumb rings now, which are heavy and weird, as I'm not used to them.

Peter has a plan for this evening for our engagement rings, it involves dinner and dressing up nicely. After everything I've learnt about this wolf I'm shocked that he might have a romantic streak.

He grabs my hand and holds it firmly as he leads me off to go and get some clothes and other things he considers 'essential'.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	16. Chapter 16

See Chapter One for all warnings, please note the non con continues through out the story. Oh and yes it is non con, Stiles has no choice, he doesn't get to say no, so it's non con.

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**016**

Clothes shopping with Peter consists of me standing there while the shop assistants scurry about like frantic ants and Peter alternates between snarks and sassy comments.

Another shirt is held up to my chest and Peter eyes it up, "No, the cut's wrong for you and the colour doesn't match your skin," personally I can't tell the difference, and when he has a large number of shirts and suits over one arm I'm marched off to the changing rooms and forced to try everything on.

He has good taste, nearly everything fits me and there's that special something that adds to my reflection, I'm officially impressed with what he's picked, I just hope I don't have to wear it everyday, I prefer my normal layered attire.

Finished being a dress up toy I lace up my holey sneakers and spot Peter causing havoc at the cashiers, he's obviously decided what I'm keeping for our dinners out and other things he wants to do, he's mentioned art galleries and the theatre. My life is never going to be the same if he drags me along to those with him.

He's even got them to deliver our purchases to the hotel so we don't have to carry them around with us. We leave and behind me I can see the manger is pleased with the sales but everyone else looks exhausted and like they've been hit by a tornado in the shape of Peter.

I'm worried he won't let me buy the type of clothes I want but he lets me loose in a lower end shop and refrains from too many comments, occasionally he takes something out of my hands and puts it back so I move on.

Soon I'm weighed down by lots of jeans, various t-shirts with motifs, hoodies, over shirts, brightly coloured socks, some jogging pants and a few t-shirts to match, and four pairs of shoes which are made up of trainers and converse. He won't let me buy my normal boxers for underwear and insists I get these tight clingy trunk things instead.

"Well that will do for now," he sweeps me towards the tills, "If you need anything else let me know."

I've got more than enough and nod happily clutching my loot to my chest.

My stomach rumbles and he finds a nice restaurant we can sit down in and put all the bags on the floor, giving some relief to my aching fingers where the handles have bitten in and cut off the blood supply. Full and stated it's with a grimace I lift my share of the bags and trundle out after him.

Expecting to go back to the hotel with my mound of bags I'm startled when he steers me into an electronics store and proceeds to terrorise the staff with his demands until I'm the proud owner of a new I-Phone and I-Pod. Then he accessories with speakers and leads to link everything to the I-Pad and to his macbook.

After that it's a stop off to get some luggage so I can carry my new clothes on our road trip

Only then does he let us go back to the hotel with our purchases and I'm fairly sure we're a hilarious sight as I struggle under my half of the load and he glides along effortlessly under his as per normal.

The earlier things are already at the hotel and have been sent up to our room for us. I'm so glad we have an elevator and don't have to use the stairs, it's difficult enough as it is. Once we're in our room all he does is drop off the bags, puts the electronic gadgets on charge and then I'm being taken out again to go sit on a sight seeing bus to make sure I see something of the city today.

As the bus is open top I have good views of everything and our guide is fairly funny, her comments are just this side of hilarious. It doesn't feel like I've been sitting down for nearly two hours but when we reach the end and hop off the bus it really has been that long and I'm stunned when I check my watch.

"So you enjoyed it?" Peter asks and I babble on about what she said even though he was sitting next to me the whole time, "Good, if there was somewhere in particular you wanted to see our tickets are valid for tomorrow as well."

"Awesome," I'm too keyed up to be still and we walk slowly back to the hotel.

"And," he's staring up at the sky frowning, "If you want to we can go sailing tomorrow, the lake is there after all. Or we can play it by ear and do what we feel at the time. The weather might be changing soon, I can smell the water in the air."

"Hey, if it's nice we can go play on the lake and if it's bad we can do indoor stuff," I suggest and he nods. He's been in a good mood since we talked in the park and an epic mood since the jewellery shop, I clear my throat, "So, what are doing tonight? You said something about dinner?"

"Hmm? Oh I thought we could have a nice dinner for two in the hotel's restaurant, they have a world-class menu, and then we could go for a short walk around the gardens before bedtime. They're hosting a small band in the restaurant, and some classical things outside," he smiles at me, "And I'd like to give you your engagement ring tonight," he knows something I don't and he's pleased about it.

Nodding, I pretend I have the power to tell him no, and he raises my hand held in his to his lips, the merest brush of his mouth on my knuckles and he's being romantic again.

In our suite of rooms he goes off to shower and get ready leaving me to play on the I-Pad though I end up using google to read up on sapphires and the chemical make up that leads to the different colours including Peter's one. The placement of the gem lodes leads me to the formation of gems and how each of them is created, the pressures and raw materials, and that red sapphires are called rubies, they're both made from the same materials.

"Stiles," he's standing next to me and I grunt caught up in how a star sapphire differs and the inclusions with in it form the perfect six lined star. And since sapphires and rubies are essentially the same, that's why you get star rubies too. "Stiles," he tries again, "I've put some clothes out for you, you may want to shower first."

"'Kay," I mutter and then finish the article I'm on, logging off I put the I-Pad down and he's dressed in a very nice black suit with a red shirt paired with a red and black tie. "Dude, looking good," I compliment him and go for my own shower.

Stepping down from the shower to the cold marble floor I can see myself in the full-length mirror. Peering at my naked body I try and see if there's anything attractive about me and I can't see it. I'm covered in bruises, my ribs show a little, okay I'm theoretically lean which this day and age is supposedly a good thing.

Shrugging I wrap a towel around me and sneak into the bedroom where he's left me more clothes out. He's picked those damn tight clingy trucks in blue, a pair of black or dark navy slacks, black socks and a pale blue shirt with dark blue tie. He's even put out cuff links for the shirt. My new black trainers are on the side and I grin to myself at being allowed to get away with wearing them.

Dream Lydia is sitting on one of the chairs filing her nails she nods, "You look good, better than those horrible t-shirts you insist on wearing," I roll my eyes at her and get a smile before she vanishes again.

Dressed I go to discover he's out on the balcony again, "Hey, I'm done," I walk over to him and we both know he heard me long before I said anything.

"So you are," his eyes run over me and it's almost bad touch but he smiles, "Stiles you are truly a sight behold and incredibly handsome," oh, my stomach swoops in a good way.

"Thanks, you too," I wiggle out of the compliment.

"Oh I know," he sasses and adjusts his cuffs, "But I don't think you realise how amazing you are. Now, are you ready for dinner?"

"Starving," I admit and we ride the elevator down to the posh dinning room where soft background music plays, courtesy of the band he mentioned. We get waited on and fussed over by the staff and I'm stuck staring at a menu filled with strangely named food.

Willing to try new things I narrow it down and when we order my attention is drawn to the band and the melody they're playing, it's only a damn rock song but reworked for the setting and I laugh.

Peter lifts an eyebrow at me, and that is so a werewolf thing, but I answer his unasked question and lean forward whispering about the band and then they play a punk song followed by an older heavy metal song that Peter knows and we both laugh and try to name those songs.

So far so good, my little slip up with two panic attacks hasn't ruined this thing between us.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	17. Chapter 17

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**017**

Strolling in the gardens we stop at the different areas that have been set up and listen in to the musicians playing. They're all following the same theme as the band inside and I'm nodding along to a popular Top 40 tune being strummed on a harp. I never thought I'd like classical music but this is fun.

We move on to some violinists and a pianist, they're playing Bat out of Hell by Meatloaf, the main tune is recognisable on the piano but the violinists are doing something around the theme and it adds to it. I have to close my eyes to concentrate on the music and split it all out, it's kinda cool.

It's really fascinating and then we're in one of the quiet corners of the garden, by a fountain, and Peter's hand is sweaty in mine, he gets me to sit on the edge of the fountain beside him and he even looks nervous.

Fishing in his pocket he has our engagement ring boxes, "Stiles," his voice breaks and I've never seen him like this, it's like he believes I can say no to him, when we both know I can't. "Stiles," he starts again, "Damn, I had a speech I was going to do."

Not wanting him to get upset I reach out to his knee and pat it gingerly, "It's okay Peter," and it really is, "Just say what you mean."

"Thank you," his smile is fleeting and he's taking a deep breath, "Stiles I know this isn't ideal for you. I know you don't love me, that I'm forcing you into this, but I also need for you to realise that I am very serious about you, about us. That I will tolerate no rivals for any affections you give to me. That I will shelter and care for you, that I will be supportive of you, that I will be as gentle as my madness will allow," he opens one of the boxes and plucks the ring I picked for myself from it.

"Stiles, you are a very strong, intelligent, relentless and unstoppable individual, and I am honoured and privileged that you are agreeing to this, no matter how coerced the situation you find yourself in," he takes my left hand and slips the ring on while I reel in confusion at his acceptance of his own screwed up actions. "I will work hard to make sure you don't regret this and one day you will look back on this night and smile."

Wow.

Kind of romantic and uber creepy all at the same time.

He pushes the ring to the base of my finger and it doesn't look bad, even in this light the various colours of the topaz wink and shimmer, I can kinda see why girls are so into jewellery it can be captivating.

The snap of the other ring box makes me look to catch him putting his own engagement ring on and I start talking before I finish thinking, "Whoa there buddy, what do you think you're doing? Take it off and give it here," I hold my hand out and I'm surprised when he slips the ring back off and places it carefully in the middle of my palm and it hits me that I now have to propose to him and mean it.

"Um…" Holy mother of god, how the hell do I get myself into these things?

It has to be honest and not a lie, I have to mean it and I can't just blurt it at him, curling my fingers over the ring I draw it closer to me and then reach for his left hand. This is something I never thought I'd be doing.

"Peter," It's my turn to falter because he's looking right into my eyes, "Um…" Oh god this could go badly. "Peter, we've had a very antagonistic relationship," which is true he's tried to kill me and he tore my jeep up at the school when was recruiting Scott, "You could say it's been destructive," I threw a cocktail of chemicals intended to set him on fire and kill him, "Even cruel on many occasions," he used Lydia to come back to life and then used the Pack to distract the Alpha Pack to regain his Alphahood, he had to kill three Alphas to do it, the coming back to life thing really drained him.

Crap I'm concentrating on the negative.

"But this is a new beginning, right?" I ask hesitantly and he nods which encourages me, "And technically you saved my life in the parking garage, because I doubt that a gang capable of killing a werewolf would have much trouble killing me. So this is to our new beginning, together," I slip the ring onto his finger and he's smiling at me, his nice smile, his harmless smile.

Impulsively I lean forward, really slowly, I like my throat intact, and I brush my lips against his cheek.

"Oh," a woman's voice says and I pull back to see an older couple beaming at us, "That's just so sweet," the woman gazes up at her husband, "I remember the day my Harold proposed to me," her hand reaches out to him and he lifts it to press a kiss there, huh, maybe Peter will still be romantic to me in a few decades and I'll still be keeping him from killing people, it's a reasonable goal to strive for. "Do you have a camera?" She asks us, "To capture the moment."

"Um, Peter has his phone on him," I volunteer and other than a raised eyebrow he hands it over. We sit closer to each other and I whisper, "Your eyes will glow, so you'll have to look at me."

"I can control them," he murmurs back and we sit with our hands entwined and our heads tilted inwards to smile at the camera, and that is such a shock that I wonder how many pictures I can take of him before he gets grumpy and a genuine grin graces my face.

We do a few more poses and then the couple move on and Peter flips through the pictures of us, we look good, "Hey I really do look good in these clothes, and look at you being all dashing," I tease him.

He preens at the praise and we walk around the garden one more time, then I yawn so much my jaw pops and he leads me inside, I'm fairly certain tonight will be a replay of last night and all we're going to do is sleep.

Spotting Angela at the reception desk I drag Peter over and show off our rings playing the happy fiancé for all I'm worth, "Congratulations," she holding my hand and twisting it so the light glints on the stone, and then Peter's gets the same treatment, the red is strong under the artificial lights and I tell her all about how it goes blue in sunlight, "Oh, that's a pity, I only work evenings and nights."

"We'll take a photo and you can see it in all it's glory," I promise her and she's so happy for us that I hum all the way up in the elevator and to our room.

My new phone is fully charged and I add Peter's number to it, I've never had many people in my contacts list and I doubt that's going to change soon. I know all the Pack's emergency numbers and emails off by heart, I used to the main one who checked them, though I'm sure someone else has stepped up and is probably doing a better job of it than I did.

Sighing I turn off the lights in the rest of the suite and go and wait in the bedroom for Peter to finish in the bathroom. He doesn't take long and pads out in a pair of tight trunks, it gives me a chance to study him and he has the same muscled werewolf physique that the others all have.

"I've left my undershirt in the bathroom," he says gently and I blink not realising how much I've been staring at him. He slides into the bed, "We have the same wake up call in the morning, and then we can go sightseeing."

"'Kay," I go to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

This domesticity stuff isn't anywhere near as hard as I always thought it would be, it's strange to have people in your personal space all the time, especially as I was so used to all the excess space I used to have with dad, but living with Derek had gotten me used to it and that meant Brad and Oren hadn't been such a shock, and now Peter isn't either.

Settling into my side of the bed we say goodnight and the light clicks off, the glow of the electrics is more familiar and his breathing is soft, he goes to sleep quickly as I toss and turn.

My engagement ring is heavy on my finger and I sigh as I turn it around and around. I try and remember that Peter did save me, if not from being murdered for being with Oren, then from the next werewolf that came through the city. I'm not an Omega anymore; I'm Beta or not quite Alpha according to him.

And that leads to thoughts about kissing and what it had felt like, and how much it hadn't been bad.

I squirm on the bed and curl up.

Derek never kissed me, he hovered and nearly did so many times but always pulled back. Brad just assaulted me and forced me to do things for him and Oren hadn't known what a cuddle was let alone a kiss.

Caressing my new ring I really do hope that Peter is that serious about a new beginning, I think I can cope if it's true, and then I can keep my family, my pack, my friends safe from him.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	18. Chapter 18

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**018**

Waking up I wiggle at the heat and hard flesh pressed against my back. This time I'm more aware and I don't panic. Controlling my breathing and slowing my heart down I wait for Peter to say something, but the deep even movements of his chest don't change and he's out cold asleep.

His arm is wrapped around me and there's no way I'm getting out of his embrace any time soon.

My phone is resting on the bedside table and I flail an arm towards it and walk my fingers the last inch stretching to snag it and drag it closer. Triumphant I grin to myself and play a game but I'm soon bored and go surfing the net.

I know I shouldn't do it, but I log onto my free email account, it's unsurprisingly empty. Once I'd fled Beacon Hills, to save everyone from me, I'd ignored my old email account as they all tried to coax me home, I even got an email from Derek at one point, and then Brad had happened.

It took him nearly a week to be finished with me the first time, and I was so ashamed of myself for what he'd done to me that as I huddled in the hospital bed afterwards I changed my email account and upgraded my Facebook to it and then I deleted my old email account. I couldn't face them. Brad made sure I was seriously damaged and soiled goods, that no one normal would want me…

Behind me Peter stirs and rubs his nose along my shoulder blade and that's a prime example of what I mean. Now only other damaged and broken people will ever want me.

Sighing I go to my Facebook finally ready to delete it for good, to give up all obvious ties to my old past and embrace this new beginning. I never had a lot of people that accepted my friend requests. It was me and Scott for a while, then I badgered a few others into pressing confirm and I could live vicariously through them, I'd known all the gossip from the big parties I never went to because no one ever invited me.

Opening it up I'm a little surprised that I have a friend left on there. When I'd ran there'd been ten. My hands start to sweat, I'm scared to look to see who it is, it has to be Scott, he's the only one I can think of who wouldn't have just deleted me and removed me from his life.

Tapping the screen I bite my lip and then my jaw drops because it's not Scott; it's Danny.

Betrayed that Scott abandoned me, after I left him and refused to talk to him for months, I'm shocked that Danny's kept me and I can't help the smile that slips out, the guy is such a nice guy. Totally not into me but then maybe I was damaged goods before the whole werewolf thing and he sensed it staying away because of it.

Opening up his page I jump into reading what he's been up to recently. Scrolling through his posts I can see the Hurricanes won again, not that I expected them to lose with four werewolves on the team, Coach did his normal after win speech and there are pictures of Danny at a family dinner thing, and at a school party I'd never have been invited to, and it's great that he's doing so well. If anyone deserves to be happy then Danny does.

He's commented on someone's status, a girl from the badminton team. She's just added that she's in a relationship and Danny's put a nice comment about wishing her the best and threatening to set Jackson on the guy if he's mean to her.

God, I never got to do that. I never got to change that single status to an in a relationship status. Never got to brag that someone had wanted me and I find myself pressing the screen before I can be sensible for once in my life and my status updates itself.

**Stiles Stilinski is in a relationship**.

Grinning like an idiot I stare at it a bit more and Peter snuffles into my neck. Biting my lip I try and talk myself down but then my arm is up in the air and I'm fiddling with the phone to get a good angle and one click later I'm smothering a snigger at the picture of me staring up at the phone looking like I'm happy and Peter's face is right in the nape of my neck so you only get a side profile of him. He looks adorable like that. He looks like he's as harmless as he tries to pretend he is.

I'm going to delete my account, I really am going to delete it, but there's one more thing I have to do first. I've crossed off changing my single status to in a relationship and now I load the picture and get creative with the caption, I dismiss over twenty of them before deciding on simple truth, '**Woke up next to my new (adorable) Fiancé and I'm ready to tackle an awesome day of playing tourist**'.

It's a great feeling to be able put a snapshot of me and my significant other up and pretend that anyone cares. That we'd get congratulations rained down on us and it really would be the beginning of a new life together.

Bringing up the menu I'm about to start the deletion process when the hotel phone rings and I startle with a manly squeak. Answering the phone I thank them for the alarm call and Peter's clearly awake now, "Hey," I twist to see him yawning with the normal amount of teeth in his mouth.

"Morning," he rubs at his eyes, "Do you want the shower first?" He's the epitome of a sleepy wolf and I nod escaping out of the bed and getting my robe as I go to the bathroom.

The relief at being able to piss is amazing and I hum in the shower, it doesn't smell of Peter's cum and I guess he was right it was a too much of a build up for him, he needed to release the pressure. Drying and shaving I'm all wrapped up in my fluffy robe as I saunter out and go to the bedroom.

Peter's sprawled in bed and is staring at his phone with a strange, almost soft, look on his face, he waves the phone at me as I dig into my pile of new clothes for something to wear, apparently he now trusts me to dress myself.

"Stiles," he's waving his phone again, "You updated your status and posted a picture of us."

Oh crap.

Our phones look the same and my eyes dart over to see his resting on his bedside table, "Um… Yeah?" I hold up a pair of socks like a shield, "I'm gonna delete my Facebook, honest, I've only got Danny left on there and…" My heart is hammering in my chest when he smiles at me.

"You think I'm adorable?" He asks and he's acting like he was last night.

"Well, did you see the picture? You do look adorable Peter," and he's not angry so I babble at him about how I've never been able to update my status and I've always envied people the cute couples pictures.

"It's okay," he cuts me off and gets up, he holds out my phone to me, "I told you I want to make you happy, and in Wolf Creek you'll make more friends and I'm sure they'll want to Facebook you and Tumblr and all those other social things like Twitter," he sighs and looks at the phone again, "Post what you want."

The phone is placed in my hand and then he's humming as he leaves the room, with his robe, and I glance down to see a comment from Danny against the photo of Peter and me, '**Congrats dude, ur both adorable, enjoy the sightseeing**'.

And that's Danny being nice again but it makes me grin that someone noticed me on the road to getting hitched against my will and wished me well. Damn Danny has got to find himself a great guy and I hope that Jackson makes good on his old threat and kicks the douche ex in the nuts.

Shit.

Jackson.

Danny's friends with Jackson.

Hurrying I change my security settings and put it so that only friends can see my page, no use in rubbing the fact that I'm with Peter in their faces, they probably hate me enough as it is, better to just fade into the background until they all forget me and they can be happy.

Pulling on my clothes I wander into the lounge area and snap pictures of the suite and the views from the balcony. Sweet. The camera on this thing is so good that I can have holiday photos to keep.

Playing with the cell phone I end up with the picture of me and Peter as my background and then the wolf in question is walking towards me dressed in casual jeans and plain t-shirt, yet he makes it work so I give him a thumbs up and earn a wink in return.

Totally gonna be a good day today.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	19. Chapter 19

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**019**

Staggering into the hotel I lean on Peter and whine about my feet while my face is still stuck in mega grin mood, it was an awesome day playing tourist. I've never been on a boat before and there's so much to see out on the lake and then in the city itself. One day isn't long enough but it means we have an excuse to come back and finish it off another time.

"I'm telling you Peter, we should do a road trip again, if this is what they're like I'm all on board for it," I nudge him with my elbow, "On board 'coz we were on a boat..." I think it's brilliant and he sighs but flashes me a smile.

"Yes dear, very punny," he guides me over to the Receptionist and this late in the evening it turns out to be Angela.

"You look like you've had fun Stiles," she greets us and I bombard her with the awesomeness of our day and I show her a picture I took of Peter's ring so she can see it blue under the sunlight. She gushes over it and then it's time to limp over to the lifts and go to our room.

We ate out tonight and found a very nice vegetarian place, turns out that Peter isn't opposed to veg, in fact he likes them. And I got to eat things off of his plate while he tried things off of my plate, another couple-y thing I can knock off my list of things I've always wanted to do.

I also went a tiny bit crazy with the camera on my cell phone and I may have snapped anything that moved, didn't move, or could have been considered a landmark if you squint at it. The video on this thing is good too and I snuck a few videos of Peter when he wasn't paying attention, my favourite one is when we were on the boat and he's gazing out over the water a small contented smile playing on his face.

He caught on quickly and retaliated, there are plenty of photos of me on his phone and a few videos including one of me running around flapping my arms screaming 'Wasp!' and it was actually a late season fly chasing me.

Meandering to the bedroom I faceplant on the bed and groan determined not to move a muscle tonight. "You know if you're going to bed you're supposed to take your shoes off," Peter's leaning in the doorway, I wave a hand at him and then go limp again. Someone grabs my ankle and I jump automatically jerking it away, "I'm just taking your shoes off," Peter says and I relax again.

He unties them and slips them and my socks off as I wiggle my toes and then he rubs the base of one of my feet and it should hurt, but damn it's so good, "Magic fingers," I grunt out and my muscles become pliant noodles. He finishes with my first foot and does his magic thing with the other and I really don't have the energy to move now.

I'm that relaxed that when his hands tug at my clothes I don't even flinch, I let him take my layers off until I'm only in my underwear and I twist slightly to assist him as he wrestles his undershirt onto me.

Hands slide under my body and I'm being picked up to be carried carefully to the bathroom where he leaves me to pee and then brush my teeth, before he steers me back to bed and helps me slide under the covers.

"Awesome day was awesome," I mutter and his fingers brush my short hair as I doze off.

Only to get rudely awakened by the hotel phone ringing loudly. Peter is once again wrapped around my back and he untangles himself long enough to pick up the phone and thank them for disturbing me.

Freed from his embrace I stretch out beside him and curl up again with a sigh, I know it won't be long before my brain forces me to get out of bed but it's warm here and there's no hurry to do anything.

A hand touches my side and I manage not to scream, I'm used to Brad or Oren touching me, at least Peter's gentle. The hand stays there and then eases around as Peter moves closer. He doesn't press firmly to my back, he leaves a little gap and we lay quietly like that.

Not talking.

For what seems like hours, but it's probably closer to a minute, we do nothing and then I squirm over to face him. And laying there staring at him in silence is even more awkward, his hand still resting on my hip.

"Morning," I whisper.

"Good morning Stiles, are you feeling more awake? You were fairly tired last night," his tone is relaxed but I can sense the flush spreading over my face.

"Yeah, much more awake, and thanks," I try not to dwell on what happened and gloss over it with, "You were a total gentleman when you put me to bed," please dear god let that be another sign that he'll continue to be that way and won't revert to a Brad mentality.

Those eyes of his dilate for a second and a momentary hint of red flashes through them as he twitches slightly, "Hmm, you're welcome, I think we tired you out trying to see the whole city in one day. We'll have to pace ourselves in future, and maybe do weekend trips to New York or something."

"Cool," I nod and we go back to staring.

"Do you want to shower first?" He offers and I slip away from him, nabbing my robe on the way, I am so going to have to get a fluffy robe at sometime, these things are so soft and awesome.

As this is my last use of the bathroom I check out the giant bath tub and lay down in it because there's something freaky about the dimensions, and not only could I fit in this, with space left over, Peter and most of Beacon Hills could too. Okay so that is an exaggeration, just Peter would fit in with me.

Climbing out I shower and hope the next place has a big bath tub so I can slosh about and soak. I'm not normally a bath person but my old tub was way too small and we never had enough hot water to fill it. I haven't finished reading the gaming magazine Peter got me so that can keep me occupied as I turn into a prune.

Robe firmly on I find Peter sitting on the bed with his clothes for the day laid out ready, "I've got my bags packed," he stands and points at the neatly placed suitcases, "You'll want to pack your own. Then we can have breakfast and leave, we have a long drive ahead of us."

"Where are we going?" I'm getting confident that he won't mind telling me as I'm being good and not trying to escape from him.

"Cheyenne, Wyoming," floats back as he goes to shower.

"Cool," I nod to myself and get dressed, then I pack my bags and there should be a system to packing but I use the tried and tested 'first thing in hand gets packed first' approach and there's just enough room left over to zip up the suitcases and plonk them next to Peter's. Mine are set at an angle to his and I do my best to line them up, but he's are perfect, and annoying, while mine are a bit haphazard and awesome.

Waiting for Peter in the lounge area I log on and find that Danny left me a message last night, he wants to know how the sightseeing went, I leave him one back promising to upload pictures and videos in an album. Then I ask how he's doing.

Logging off I skim through my photos and delete the blurry unfocused ones, when I discover I only have half the suite on camera. Bumbling around trying to get perfect angles I give up and start videoing instead, I can cut pictures out if I want to. I do a running commentary and walking into the bedroom Peter's doing up the last button on his shirt and lifting an eyebrow at me, "Stiles are you really going to film the entire suite?"

"Duh," I grin at him from behind the safety of my cell phone, "Smile Peter," and he gives me a 'bitch please' look instead, "Oh come on," I coax and get a quick smile as he moves towards me.

"I'll order breakfast," he says as he passes me, and, well, my aim on the camera may have slipped a little to his ass and then he says, "My eyes are up here," and clicks his fingers up near his ear. Stupid werewolves and knowing when I'm not being strictly a gentleman

"Damn it," I sulk and turn the camera on myself long enough to roll my eyes and then it's just the bathroom to go. I even line up on the giant mirrors so I can wave to myself and give my trademark grin.

Turning off the video I hear the sound of the breakfast cart and hurry to the table to eat and play back my video. It's good and I've captured most of the essence of the rooms and the view from the balcony.

Peter prowls around the rooms making sure we haven't left anything and then makes me brush my teeth interrupting me loading the images to the I-Pad, I'm going to use it to edit things and get them in the order I want them before putting them on Facebook, if I can find an internet connection that will last long enough.

We have a guy come and pick up our bags for us and then Peter's taking me by the hand and we go to pay, the Hummer is brought to the front and we load the bags in before I hop in my seat and Peter drives us through Salt Lake City and out onto the Interstate where the boredom of watching the landscape forces me back to my project of pictures and videos.

Behind us the city vanishes from sight but I'm left with the physical reminders as my three rings are sitting on my fingers and I'm getting used to the weight of them. I spin my thumb rings and touch my engagement ring.

Just over a week ago I would never have believed I could have a new beginning with Peter Hale of all people, but it's happening and life is good for me for once.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	20. Chapter 20

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**020**

In every epic road trip movie ever made there is fun and laughter and epicness, no one mentions that it can be boring, or that if you don't time it right you end up squirming and needing to pee for half an hour before Peter can find a gas station you can use.

"You should have gone last time," he's not very sympathetic and he points to the large bottle of lemonade on my side of the car, "And really? You drank most of that in one go. What did you think was going to happen?"

"That I'd be able to burb along to the radio," I confess and get another of his 'bitch please' looks sent my way. "And I nearly did, until you turned the radio off."

Pulling off the Interstate he parks up and I scurry to the toilets of hell and disgusting hygiene but I really need to go and I refuse to use a bush, someone might see me.

Climbing back into the Hummer I notice he's moved the lemonade so I can't keep drinking it, which is probably a good idea as I feel a bit sick too. Getting back on the road I bury myself in my project, Peter's given me his phone and I've dragged the photos and videos off of it. He has some ideas and inputs in what I'm doing and I've decided he's not allowed anywhere near the name of our road trip, and he shoots me another look.

"Really, you're still going with 'Stiles and Peter's Awesome Road Trip of Awesomeness'? What's wrong with just using dates? And why is your name first? Peter is alphabetically first," he's not stopped on about that since I let the name of the road trip slip.

'Because' is not really an answer so I add, "I'm assuming that when we get married I'll be taking the name of Hale, so since I'm giving up my last name, which in ancient tongues translates as 'awesome', you have to give up having your name first. Therefore and ergo, it's Stiles and Peter."

"Therefore and ergo? Stiles you know they mean the same thing," though he's got that soft look back on his face and stops arguing with me.

We start talking about anything and everything again like we did on the way to Salt Lake City, I'm partly distracted by my task and I'm trying to create a Road Trip Folder we can keep, maybe even print out some of the nicer photos for an album, and I'm making a list of what I want to upload to Facebook. The video of me being chased by a fly is not making the cut, it will die a mysterious death called deletion.

It passes the time and I'm still stunned at how easy he is to talk to, and how much he knows about things. These are the conversations I've never been able to have before, mainly because dad didn't have the time, and Scott wouldn't be able to keep up, Allison's always focused on Scott, Danny could only put up with me for so long, and Lydia was normally hiding that amazing brain of hers.

Stopping off at a dinner for lunch I get him to scoot in next to me on the booth seat and show him what I've been able to do so far. He only makes a few adjustments and as there's nearby wifi I upload the ones I want to Facebook.

Our waitress keeps giving us judgemental glances and sniffs, which we both ignore, and then there's a shift change and our new waitress is much nicer. Spotting our engagement rings she coos over us and I get an extra piece of pie for free, I would share it with Peter but he says he's full.

Hitting the open road again I groan and whine because my stomach hurts and I'm bored. I have the games from the start of our road trip to play with but I need two hands for that and I've thought of a new thing to check off my 'couples things to do' list.

Casually I stretch my arms in front of me and then nonchalantly I let my left hand move over and gently place it on Peter's thigh. The Hummer wobbles on the road for a few seconds and his muscles have stiffened under my fingers. Righting the car we drive in silence for a minute or two and then all at once he relaxes and I smirk to myself.

"You realise I can do that back now, don't you," he states calmly and I can't help looking over at him with a giant grin on my face. He snorts and pats my hand but he doesn't remove it and I go back to playing on the I-Pad.

Classic games are sometimes the best ones, and you can play them one handed, though I die quite a few times and bitch under my breath about them cheating when I'm not looking.

Another downside of keeping my hand on his thigh is that my arm aches after a few hours but we're luckily pulling into Cheyenne and I sit up taking my hand back and stare at what I can see of the town. Our hotel is on the edge of Cheyenne and we pull in and park, no valet service here.

The guy at the registration is nice enough and then we're dragging our luggage through the hotel to our room. It's up a flight of stairs and Peter swops bags with me, so I get a lighter one that's heavy enough to my human muscles, and we're in another suite of rooms.

If we hadn't been to the hotel in Salt Lake City I'd have said this one is incredibly posh and tastefully decorated, but it's slightly dated and just the wrong side of tired. It's still amazing and beautiful and Peter is spoiling me.

We don't unpack any clothes, just our toiletries mostly, and then I sit out on our balcony and gaze across the back gardens, which contains a swimming pool that's going to be too cold to swim in right now. And over the far end are paths cut into a woodland area, perhaps we can go exploring after dinner or something.

Sitting next to me Peter breathes in a few times and grunts as he sprawls back into the chair, his hand lands on my thigh and I squeak in shock glaring at the tiny smile playing on his lips. Yeah he's decided he can do that now too, damn it.

"I can smell the trees," he murmurs and I sniff loudly but can't tell with my human nose.

"Wanna go for a walk in them after dinner?" I ask him and he nods lazily, "Cool. So, what time's dinner?"

"Whenever we want to go down for it," he glances at his watch, "It's early yet unless you're hungry now?"

"I can give it an hour or so," I shrug, "How long are we staying in Cheyenne? And we can spend the time googling what touristy stuff there is to do here?" I end up booting up his macbook and we're only staying here for a day of sightseeing. They have these train/bus things we can hop on and off of or do the full tour on, like we did in Salt Lake City.

Making some notes we decide to think about what we want to see and I go pee before dinner only to stop and salivate at the giant bathtub. It's at least as big as the one in our other room and I'm going to use this tomorrow night after we spend all day tromping around looking at stuff.

Dinner is a culinary love affair waiting to be devoured and I may make a few noises that I shouldn't to the point that Peter is at first embarrassed but then laughs at me and steals some of my food, "Oh god…" He groans and I snigger at his face, the food really is that good.

"I vote we eat here tomorrow night," I smirk at him and he nods momentarily speechless from the tastes running rampant in his mouth.

Going for our promised walk we head straight for the woods and I hadn't realised how much I missed trees, the sound of the wind whispering in them, the crunch of the autumn leaves under my feet. Peter's openly sniffing and crouching to scent at things that catch his nose's attention.

"Do you mind if I change?" He asks a growl showing through his words and his eyes are burning red. "I want to be able to really run."

Jagged memories of him as a misshapen wolf-man-thing float up in my mind and I nervously swallow, my poor heart is beating far too rapidly, "Can you control it when you change?" My voice hardly cracks.

"Yes," he's firm on that and waits for my answer.

Pretending I have a choice I nod and he starts to strip down, he hands me his clothes, and when he's naked in the gloom his body shape darkens and changes. Closing my eyes because I want to keep my very nice dinner in my stomach I do breathing exercises so I don't hyperventilate and pass out.

A snuffling sound starts up and I peek into the dusky night to see bright red eyes like lasers in the middle of a hulking thing. He's actually sniffing like a dog and I must have some kind of sense of preservation because I don't screw up and blurt out anything, trapping the words behind my teeth.

He moves along the path and looks back at me, then a bit further forward and back at me. I've seen enough Lassie to know what he wants and I edge towards him slowly as we resume our walk in the woods.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.


	21. Chapter 21

See Chapter One for all warnings,

* * *

**Living Dreams and Nightmares**

**021**

Considering what my life has been I'm fairly freaked out that I'm walking in the woods of Cheyenne with Peter, and he's a giant scary werewolf-thing that's frolicking and bounding around like a little puppy.

I stumble into a clearing and he runs about sniffing and doing other canine things to the point that I'm waiting for him to cock a leg and pee up a tree. He doesn't, but the image in my mind makes me smile.

Having hung around werewolves I know not to look him directly in the eye but it's dark and his fur is black so his glowing eyes are pretty much my only reference point. He doesn't take offence at my staring and then we're carrying on with our walk.

He's just this flash of black on black and then he's sitting up a tree and leaping from tree trunk to tree truck and this delighted laugh bubbles up out of me. Some times I envy them this, and trust Peter to have worked out how to get high enough up that he's hard to track from the ground.

Dropping to the woodland floor he stands upright and normally Peter's a little shorter than me, but in this form he towers over me and looms magnificently. Shaking his body he drifts from the path and startles a deer across in front of me, he doesn't chase it, he lets it go and I breathe out, "Dude, wow."

Following the path around in a semi circle we reach the end of the mini wooded area and his sigh is so audible that I offer, "We can go back again, if you want…"

That big head waves from side to side and he falls to the ground getting smaller as I hastily avert my eyes. The whispering tread of feet in leaves and he's human again standing next to me so I hand him his clothes.

Once he's dressed we hold hands and walk towards the hotel, I try and keep the moment and then I ask him, "Was it good? Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh yes, it was good. The world's so full of life and smells," he's growling softly. "Thank you for agreeing to walk with me like that, it was glorious. I want to do that again when we get home, to walk in the woods unfettered by anything. Free," there's something in his tone that sparks an understanding in me, to be free of everything and let the forest swallow up every fear and worry until it all falls away and you can be you.

How many times have I escaped into the woods around Beacon Hills? The mechanical rhythm of walking, the peace of the forest giving me some control over my thoughts and when I go home and slip into bed I can finally sleep and turn my brain off.

"Okay," I agree and yelp as he hugs me to him, I have to clutch his shoulders for balance and this is nice too. He's very warm and the night is frigging cold and getting colder.

"You are the most…" He pauses, "Awesome person in the world," and I laugh at him using my word to describe me. "Thank you Stiles," he's being serious now and his face is right in front of mine, "Thank you."

Oh so slowly he leans forward and I know he's going to kiss me. Just like he did in the park he's gentle and undemanding. And it's nice, doing this with him is nice.

His lips are dry but then so are mine, his lower lip is fuller than his top lip, and I'm coaxed into kissing him back. In all the stories and porn I've ever read things would normally heat right up at this point, instead his hands don't roam, and the kisses stay the same as I begin to relax into them.

Wow.

No wonder people go nuts over kissing and this is better than the kisses in the park, I feel better in myself, I feel safer with him. A blast of cold wind makes me shiver and he pulls back, "You're cold," it's not a question, "Let's get you inside where it's warm."

And we're back to holding hands as I bumble along beside him trying to process what an amazing kisser he is and attempting to decide whether wanting to continue kissing him in our room would constitute an invitation into doing more, which I'm so not ready for.

Uncertain and not wanting to piss him off when he's in such a good mood I let the question slide and we get ready for bed, though neither of us is that tired, we watch a film on the TV, in bed, together, not sleeping.

Another couple-y thing I can mark off my list. The bed is nice and comfy, Peter stays on his side of the bed and the film is funny. Things are really going great, right up to the sex scene and then I squirm and side eye Peter wondering if he'll get ideas.

"Stiles, relax," he says and turns to look me in the eyes, "I promised I would behave and I intend to keep that promise to you," he frowns, "Unless the scene is triggering you in some way?"

"Um… I'm okay," I fidget and wait for him to call me out on the blatant lie I just told him. I go back to watching the film and let it soothe me, though things are awkward now.

Damn it.

At the credits I side eye Peter again and then roll on my side to face him, hugging the blankets to my chest I test a theory I'm working on and this should put him in a very good mood.

"So, Peter," I start and he glances at me, "What's Wolf Creek like? You said you wanted to go walking in the forest with me, does it have a forest?"

My working theory is that Peter is focused on getting me to come with him willingly and anything I do that's accepting of our 'relationship' makes him happy. Why, I don't know, it's not like the guy is playing with a full deck of cards, motive is a hazy point I can't pin down, yet.

Mimicking me he rolls over and smiles that soft smile, my theory is looking more promising, and he answers my questions, "Wolf Creek is on the west side of Lake Algonquin, the creek it's named after runs into the lake in the middle of the little town. The whole area is covered in woods and forests. It's twinned with Wells on the other side. The towns are both tiny and have a friendly rivalry going on.

"Our home is right on the edge of the lake, at the bottom of Wolf Creek, it means I can duck out for 'runs' in the forest whenever I want to. We have decking around part of the house and we can sit out there in summer and look out over the lake. There's even a small jetty you could use to go swimming in the lake when it's warm," he describes it in typical Peter style and that's the kind of way Derek would, more to the point that building a picture in your head for you.

"So I'm going to live on a lake? Dude, totally never done that before, does the lake have waves?" The bigger lakes can have them but he's shaking his head.

"No, not normally, when it gets really still the water's like a mirror and reflects everything, the towns are small enough that there isn't a huge amount of light pollution so the stars are really clear at night and the whole lake can appear to be made up of stars," finally he's getting emotive over it.

"Awesome," I think I could get used to seeing the stars reflected in the water. I get him to tell me a bit more. Wells has the little kid schools and Wolf Creek has the High School, whose top team plays basketball, and Peter loves basketball. There's a library, a sport's centre based at the high school that anyone can use, and they have lots of water based festivals and races throughout the year. The fishing is supposed to be fantastic and the towns get a lot of tourists there.

It's quiet and boring, nothing ever happens there, like Beacon Hills before the werewolves came back, or in Peter's case recovered. I could do with some peace and quiet, I feel drained, broken, I need time to heal.

Stretching out in the bed I smile sleepily at him, "It sounds nice," and he smiles back at me as I snuggle down with a yawn.

"Sleep Stiles," he tells me and he clicks off the light. The room sounds wrong, the lights are in the wrong places again but I can hear Peter breathing in the dark and I drift off to dream about lakes made up of stars.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.

Lake Algonquin is real as is Wells, I've just inserted Wolf Creek and made Wells a bit bigger on the eastern side of the lake.


End file.
